Prisoner of War
by Annibelle White
Summary: AU. Fiyeraba. The Scrow and Arjiki are at war when Frex drags his daughter Elphaba to help him preach to the Scrow. But before Frex can get any converts, there is an ambush. Elphaba is torn away from her family and captured to be a bed slave.
1. Prologue: Ambush

_Author's Note: So, I'm not even going to bother apologizing for not working on the other stories. You all know I feel bad about it._

_But this came to me yesterday in a dream – a highly strange and a little more… tasteless dream than this story will be. But yes, a dream. That has NEVER happened to me. At first, I thought the idea was ridiculous, but it wouldn't get out of my head. All day today, I went through this story in my head on my breaks, on my downtime. And I realized I had to write it._

_This is going to be a little bit AU. And just slightly in the direction of "Yes, Master," except… not. I don't know how to explain it except to let you read it. No summaries of my ideas for you! But yes, it's Fiyeraba. I don't know about Shiz, I don't know about Nessa or Nanny or Shell (and you'll see about Frex pretty soon). Or even Galinda. This is, in many ways, an experiment. If you don't like it, then I'm sorry. But I want to play with this._

**Prologue: Ambush**

They had known the Scrow were at war when her father went to preach to them. He had said, "In trying times, they'll need a god, and who better than the Unnamed God?" But he had left Nessa, Nanny and Shell behind. Poor Nessie couldn't be too close to such terrible sights, and Shell was much too young. Frex needed Elphaba, however. She had the voice. Only the Scrow king and nobles spoke any of the common language, but anyone could understand that Elphaba's beautiful voice was a blessing disguised in a body of sin, Frex had insisted. From what she had heard (which wasn't much, because she couldn't understand Vinkun dialects), they weren't in that much danger, anyway. Clearly, she hadn't heard enough.

She hadn't yet begun to sing when the Arjiki mounted their surprise attack on this isolated Scrow encampment. In fact, she hadn't said a word. When the tattooed men rushed in, she did not scream, or say anything at all. Elphaba was too overcome with shock. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father attempt to run, and she saw the spear take him down, straight through the chest. Even then, she couldn't make a sound.

Then a hand clamped around her wrist and an Arjiki soldier, with tattooed orange ovals on his skin, dragged her roughly out of the large tent where her father had been preaching. He threw her into a cage on wheels with other women, all about her age. She looked around frantically. The other women were all Scrow, chattering and babbling things she could not make out.

They were pulled by two horses somewhere west. It was hot, and journey took at least two hours, Elphaba guessed from the movement of the sun and shadows. They arrived at the Arjiki encampment as the sun was beginning to set, and all of the women were ushered into a large tent where they were shackled at the wrists and ankles. A medicine woman took them out of the tent one at a time and returned them minutes later. Guards were posted at both the entrance and exit of the tent.

She didn't know why the medicine woman was examining her. The old woman muttered off things in a language she didn't understand, presumably to the young woman who was taking notes beside her. Then she unshackled Elphaba's legs and began to push them open.

It was then that Elphaba realized what was going on. She had just been captured as an Arjiki sex slave.


	2. Chapter 1: Barriers

**Chapter 1: Barriers**

"I want a virgin for my son," Fiyero's father told the soldier.

Fiyero sighed. "Father, do I have to?"

"You are sixteen. It is about time you had some experience." His father said.

Fiyero looked around the tent, his father's tent. It was a two room tent. This side was the public side. A makeshift table and chairs were in the center with maps and strategic plans piled on top. The tent was made out of a violet Vinkun silk. The soldiers had set it up that morning when they had arrived, just before they had mounted their attack on the Scrow.

"I just don't think that this is the time," Fiyero insisted. He did not want a slave. His father had sent some of the kitchen and stable girls to his room before the war. He had refused them then. Now his father planned to take one of the newly captured women and literally _give_ her to Fiyero. It was too much.

"You can pick the one you want out of the virgins we captured. The medicine woman has just finished examining them." Fiyero's father waved his son's concerns away and turned to the soldier he'd been speaking to. "Take us to the tent, please."

"Father…"

"I don't want to hear about it again. I was fourteen when I had my first servant, and fifteen when my father got me my own bed slave. You've stalled for long enough."

Fiyero reluctantly followed his father out of the tent and down a large row of about twenty tents. They entered a tent almost as large as his father's; but this tent was only one room and the fabric was worn and torn in spots.

"You may bring them in," a soldier said in Arjiki.

"As my son, the Crown Prince, you get first pick of the slaves. After that, me, and then the best of my men."

Fiyero wished his father would just stop talking.

Another soldier led the women into the room. Those poor women. They hadn't started this war. They hadn't killed anyone. It had been their husbands, their brothers, their sons. But here they were. They looked to be about fifteen to twenty-five. They were each clad in a black cotton robe and nothing else.

"The medicine woman has examined them thoroughly. They are all virgins." His father sounded proud of this.

Fiyero merely nodded.

All but one of the women were Scrow. The last one was at the end of the line and he craned to get a look at her. Her skin was… green? All of the women looked either confused or afraid. All but the green one.

Fiyero said nothing, praying that maybe his father would forget about him. That was not to be the cast of course.

"Just choose one, son. If you are unhappy later, I will rectify it."

Fiyero still said nothing.

"I can choose for you," his father pushed.

"The one on the end," Fiyero murmured.

His father looked over at the green girl, the girl with long, silken black hair. "Are you… sure?"

Fiyero nodded.

His father gestured at the guard. "She'll be in your tent before you get back." The guard took her away.

Fiyero's father discussed the rest of the women with his best men and Fiyero tried not to be sick. He dreaded returning to his tent. But before long, he and his guards were headed back there.

The girl was sitting on his bed when he arrived, curled up tightly. She jumped a little when he entered, but recovered quickly. The girl fixed him with a blank stare.

He began in the common tongue, unsure of what language she spoke. "Hello, my name is Fiyero. Actually, it's Prince Fiyero, but you really don't have to worry about that." When she didn't respond, he repeated what he had said in the Scrow dialect, which he had learned in order to negotiate (or so his father said). When that didn't work, he attempted speaking Arjiki. And yet she still wouldn't respond. "I guess we have a bit of a language barrier here." He went back to speaking common.

She continued to stare at him.

"Well, I guess…" He wasn't sure why he was still talking. "I'm sorry."

She seemed to at least sense the change in his voice and cocked her head slightly.

"Look," he continued, "I didn't want this to happen to you. I didn't even want you." He bit his lip. "Oh, that's not what I meant. I do want you. I mean… wow, you don't even understand what I'm saying and still I'm talking like a crazy person. I didn't want a slave." He sighed and sat on his bed. The girl scooted over to make room, but did not look him in the eyes again. She seemed concerned that he might touch her.

"I'm not going to do anything tonight." Fiyero put a hand on hers. "You'll have to share my bed, but that is all. There's nowhere else to sleep, and the guards peek in occasionally at night, so it would be best. They will bring you your food when I'm gone and when I'm here, too. While I'm fighting, you'll just stay in here. There's not a lot to do. Sorry about that. Just get comfortable. I do wish you would talk to me. But I suppose you can't help that, can you? In fact, I don't know why I'm explaining all this to you when, in all likelihood, you don't understand."

And still, all she did was stare.

"I wish I knew where you came from. I wish I could communicate with you. We'll figure something out, right?" Fiyero laughed. "Why am I asking for an answer? For the most part, I guess we'll just use hand signals or something." He made wild gesticulations.

"Again," he said, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I had no choice. But I promise not to do anything to you that would hurt you." He paused. "Well, okay, I really can't promise that. My father is pretty crazy. But for now, we'll just share this tent."

Her eyes stayed blank.

Fiyero yawned overzealously. "It's been a long day. Why don't we go to sleep?" He pointed at the bed.

She nodded solemnly.

"You don't have anything but that robe, do you?" He realized. "I'll see what I can find. And when the war is over, the palace tailor will make sure you have nice clothes." Fiyero climbed under the covers. "Goodnight, I suppose."

The girl climbed under the covers as well, albeit stiffly. She turned away from him.

"Sweet dreams. Though I don't suppose that'll happen. Sorry about that." He wished he could do more than apologize.


	3. Chapter 2: Silence

**Chapter 2: Silence**

She had understood every word of common that he had spoken. But she wasn't ready for him to know that yet. So she stayed silent, taking her time to contemplate.

Her father was dead. She had seen the way that spear had hit him. There was no denying that. But what about Nessa, Nanny and Shell? They had been a few miles out. Had the Arjiki forces found them? Had they even looked? Were they scared? Did they know what had happened? She didn't want to think about it too much. Weeks ago she'd been dragged around Oz, waiting for the year to pass so she could finally attend Shiz, and now here she was, a prince's bed slave.

A prince. This young man who had chosen her was the prince of the Arjiki tribe, the people who had killed her father, who had kidnapped her, though those seemed to be things he had no say in. His babbling had revealed at least that much. At least he hadn't forced her to sleep with him, though she couldn't be certain it wouldn't happen soon. She had fitful nightmares in which she watched her father die over and over again.

The next morning she ate her breakfast with the prince in silence. He must've talked himself out the evening before. When they finished, he attempted to speak again. "I don't know when you've last had a bath, but I could certainly use one. I probably should've bathed last night. If you wish, I can summon some of the servant girls and we can bathe separately."

This was where it became frustrating. She would not speak to him, not for now. But she needed desperately to communicate with him. She would _not_ bathe with him. First of all, she couldn't touch water. And second of all, she didn't want to. Still, she fixed him with a blank stare and watched him call in several servants who filled the small bath that was in his tent.

"We won't be moving for a while. We obliterated a lot of the Scrow's forces. They'll need time to recuperate and we can rest while we send some spies to get intelligence," a guard told Fiyero, who nodded and sent him from the tent, as well as the others who had filled the bath.

Fiyero then began to undress. She couldn't help it – she averted her eyes. He walked up to her when he was in only his shorts and tried to bring her to the bath. She shook her head violently. He cocked his head at her.

She thought quickly. There was still some oil that they'd been dipping bread in at breakfast. She backed away from him.

"There are guards on both sides of this tent. As much as I would like to let you go…"

He thought she was trying to escape. She wasn't stupid! She knew about the guards. She'd checked. She shook her head again and grabbed the oil. Then she walked over to the bath. She pointed at the water and made a gesture across her throat, hoping to indicate it would kill her.

"What?"

She repeated the gesture.

"You don't like water?" He pointed at the water and shook his head, interpreting his own words.

She nodded.

"I promise that when we travel you will sit in a covered caravan, in case it rains. But you have to bathe, don't you?"

She cocked her head, pretending not to understand.

"How am I going to get this across?" He said, frustrated. He pretended to scrub himself, then threw his hands into a "why/how" gesture. "You're pretty clean now, so you had to get that way somehow."

She figured she could pretend to understand his gesture. She held the oil out. She spilled some into her hands. She rubbed her forearm with it, then nodded.

"I think I understand. I'll get you some oils."

She felt relieved, but merely stared at him.

He walked toward her and took some oil. He began to rub it on her other arm.

She pulled away and shook her head.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so forward. I'm trying to help. Oh, you must hate me." Fiyero turned away from her and headed to the bath.

She leapt back into the bed and hid, covering her eyes. She heard him laugh and she scowled, glad he could not see her face. Did they have no shame in the Vinkus? Well, even if they did, she supposed it didn't apply to bed slaves. She continued to stay hidden.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. There are often servants around when I bathe. Although I've never… well, not that you care."

She certainly did not care. And she hoped he stopped talking about this.

"Anyway, I wish you had a name. Well, you probably do, but I wish I knew it, so I could call you something. I'm not going to just give you a name. You're not a pet. You have a name, _your_ name, and I won't take that from you."

He was certainly a respectful prince, wasn't he? She sighed beneath the blanket.

Fiyero was silent for the rest of his bath. After a few minutes, she hadn't heard any splashing, and she peaked out. He was dressed, so she came all of the way out. He saw her and smiled. "Good. I was about to come take the blanket away, but I didn't want to alarm you. Now, let me try something." He pointed at himself. "Fiyero."

She nodded.

He pointed at her and raised his eyebrows.

She didn't know what to say and bit her lip. She didn't want him to know her name. So she took only a part of it. "Fae."

"Fae?"

She nodded.

"That's your name?"

She looked at him, pretending to be confused.

He pointed at her. "Fae?"

She nodded and pointed at herself. "Fae." Then she pointed at him. "Fiyero."

"Yes." He nodded. "Well, that's helpful. Fae, I'm sorry, again."

She just stared at him. What good did his apology do her? Her father was dead. She was a bed slave. Apologies would get her nowhere.

"I have to go meet with my father soon. I will talk to someone about finding you something to do. Maybe a puzzle?" He sighed. "I will be back. If you need anything, ask the guards." He laughed at himself. "Well, try to ask them."

After he left, she searched the room. The first thing she noticed was a chess set near the table on which they had eaten breakfast. It was set up at the start of a game. She moved a piece on the white side, just to see if he'd notice. Then she went over to the bedside table. She had spied a book there earlier. Of course, she'd have to be careful with that. If he saw her reading it, or even if a guard did, he secret would be out. And she was in no way ready to reveal it.


	4. Chapter 3: The Ways of War

**AN: I saw a few people favorite or add alerts to this story. Thanks! Also, do realize, this is coming out literally as it's written. Except this chapter. This chapter pissed me off. I had literally just finished it and went to save when my computer restarted. It was a whole different chapter last night than it is now... Anyway, I'm not doing a lot of revision or anything. This story just keeps begging me to get it out of my system, and I barely have time to plan, much less to edit to.**

**Chapter 3: The Ways of War**

Instead of going to see his father right away, he went to see one of the soldiers who had been in charge of the captured women (and had helped capture them). Fiyero wanted to know more about this girl, Fae, who was now sharing his tent. She certainly wasn't Scrow – that much was obvious enough. So where had she come from? What had she been doing in the Scrow encampment? Had she been one of _their_ prisoners or slaves?

"Prince Fiyero!" The soldier bowed as Fiyero entered the tent. "Do you need something?"

Fiyero had not been in the forefront of the ambush – he hadn't really been in the forefront of anything. He was still learning, and was supposed to just observe. Most days he wasn't even allowed in his father's strategy meetings, though that seemed to be changing slowly. He hadn't seen much of the ambush. "You were on the front lines yesterday, correct?"

The soldier nodded.

"The girl you captured, the green one…" Fiyero began.

"The one who has taken up residence in your bed?" The soldier teased.

"That one, yes. I was wondering if there was anything that… well, I mean, she's obviously not Scrow. When you captured her, did she say anything?"

"Not a word. But there was a Munchkinlander there when we attacked. He didn't make it out. He seemed to be preaching. I don't know if she was there with him."

A Munchkinlander would understand him when he spoke common. And he'd never heard of a green Munchkinlander. "There were no other foreigners there?"

"Well, not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

"We surveyed nearby, to make sure there weren't other forces around. About a mile and a half away, we spotted a camp and what looked to be three shadows. We didn't want to get close enough for them to know we were there, so we shot at them from afar. When we got to the camp they were all dead, and..."

"They weren't Scrow."

"No, they were Munchkinlanders. Probably with the preacher man."

"Couldn't you have done something else instead of shooting at them?"

"We couldn't know if it was safe! The sun was in our eyes, Prince Fiyero."

"Couldn't you have surprised them and taken them prisoner?"

"A lot of the men were still revved up from the ambush. They didn't want to bother."

"There were innocent people. The men _should_ have bothered."

"They wouldn't have made good prisoners, anyway. They'd have been no use to us. An old woman, a young boy and a crippled girl."

"And you couldn't tell that by their shadows?" Fiyero felt himself getting angry.

"As I said, the men weren't exactly thinking."

"They should've been!" Fiyero shouted.

"You have much to learn about the ways of war, Prince Fiyero."

"I didn't know war included all out murder." Fiyero stormed out of the tent. He didn't think his father would appreciate him yelling at one of his best men, so he'd had to force himself to leave. He headed over to his father's tent to see if his father knew about those poor Munchkinlanders. How could his father have missed it? His anger mounted with each step he took. By the time he got there, he was fuming.

"Ah, son, I was just going to have someone wake you. I thought you might still be sleeping. I expected perhaps you'd had a late night." His father looked up, gestured at a soldier who left quickly and grinned at him.

Fiyero ignored the comment. "I have some questions for you."

"I thought I explained everything to you last time we had this talk," his father joked.

"This isn't a joke."

"What happened? Did she fight you? I told the soldiers to listen closely in case you were in trouble…"

"It's not about that!" Fiyero snapped.

His father looked taken aback. "What is wrong, son?"

"Do you know about the Munchkinlanders that were killed last night?"

"Yes," his father shrugged, "what of it?"

"We aren't at war with any Munchkinlanders, father."

"It was unfortunate, but nothing can be done about it now."

"You could punish the men involved for jumping at the chance to kill people who turned out to be innocent."

"They were protecting us, Fiyero. They fight for us. There'd be no point. Next time, there could be Scrow out there. I won't punish them for doing what could've saved our lives."

"It didn't save anyone. Three people are dead."

"That's the nature of war."

Fiyero bit his tongue, hard. He didn't know how to respond to his father. If this was what it would be like to be a king, he never wanted to be.

"Son, calm down and come over here. I want to discuss our next strategy with you. It's about time you get included in some of this. If you don't understand what this war means, then you should be a bigger part of it."

Fiyero hesitated, but sat beside his father as his father explained some of their next maneuvers. The Scrow chief (he called himself "king,") had escaped the ambush, but he was probably injured. They'd be staying in the area for at least a few days.

The medicine woman entered the tent and whispered something into Fiyero's father's ear.

His father's face changed. He dismissed the medicine woman and the rest of the soldiers in his tent. "Son, is there some problem with your body that you want to tell me about?"

"What?" Fiyero was confused. "No."

"Then why is the girl I got for you last night still a virgin? I'm beginning to become concerned. I've heard of men who have… different… desires… but you must suck it up…"

"That's not it!" That's what the medicine woman had told him. "I just…"

"I don't care what it is, son. We're taking the day to rest. If that girl is still a virgin tomorrow morning, I'll hand her over to my men and I will send you someone more experienced."

"Father…"

"I don't want to hear it. Go. You have work to do."

Fiyero dreaded returning to his tent, but knew he had to. He should at least prepare the poor girl for what he had to do. The truth was, Fiyero had read so many fairytales as a child, so many novels, that he had a very clear idea of how this was supposed to go, and it wasn't like this. He took a deep breath before he entered the tent. "Fae…"

The girl looked up.

"You just saw the medicine woman, right?"

She just cocked her head.

"My father insists that… well, I'm so sorry. We… I have to… I know I said I'd try not to hurt you… but I'm going to have to… sort of… I've heard it hurts… we have to… well, I have to sleep with you."

"You have to what?"

Fiyero didn't respond to what she had said. Instead, he gaped at her for a moment. "You understand me? You can talk?"

The girl bit her lip.


	5. Chapter 4: Sorry Doesn't Cut It

**AN: So, yes, that was a big ending. And the hits just keep coming. But hey, at least he's nice. And the life of a bed slave isn't so bad. Hey, I'd be Fiyero's bed slave. Gladly.**

**Chapter 4: Sorry Doesn't Cut It**

"You speak common? And you've pretended not to understand me all this time? Not a word?" Fiyero frowned at her.

He had the audacity to be mad at her? His people had killed her father, paraded her in front of all of the soldiers to be given to him as a sex slave and he was mad at _her_? Elphaba jumped off of his bed. "I didn't know what to say. What did you want me to say, Prince Fiyero? One moment my father is preaching to the Scrow and the next I'm _here_."

"So that was your father… You're a Munchkinlander?"

Elphaba nodded.

"I… I'm sorry."

"You weren't there. How do you know about my father?"

"I asked around. I wanted to know about you."

Had he heard anything about Nessa, Shell and Nanny? "Oh." She paused. Well, since he knew she could talk, anyway… "The rest of my family was nearby. Did you find anything out about them?"

He looked away and she began to worry. "Fae…"

"It's not Fae. My name is Elphaba."

For a moment, he looked like he was going to be mad again, but the passed quickly. "My people found them."

"Where are they? Can I see them? I'm sure Nessa is worried, especially if she knows our father is dead…"

"Please don't make me do this, Fae – Elphaba, sorry."

"Do what?" Elphaba started to realize what was happening, but she struggled to believe otherwise.

"They were killed, too." Fiyero couldn't meet her gaze.

Elphaba tripped backwards, but Prince Fiyero caught and grabbed her, pulling her towards him. She pushed back and pulled away, fighting tears. "No."

"Stop. Please. I'm sorry."

"You're _sorry_?" She tried to keep from shouting. She knew the guards outside the tent could hear them if they were too loud. "You killed my entire family and you're sorry."

"I didn't do it."

"Your people did. You are their prince. And now, apparently, I have to sleep with you."

"By tomorrow morning," Fiyero confirmed. "Look, Elphaba…"

"Fae is better," she muttered, making her way to a chair and sitting down slowly. She liked the sound of it on his tongue, a slightly accent on the "a," from the Arjiki that was must've been his first language. And if she was "Fae," she wasn't her father's "Fabala," or her sisters "dearest Elphaba."

"Whatever you want," he said gently, sitting beside her.

She hated him for being so kind. She hated him because he was making it difficult to do just that: hate him. "I don't know…" She didn't know anything. What to think. What to feel. She felt the tears start dripping and she turned her head.

"Is there anyone left?" He asked. "Anyone who perhaps would make a big stink if they didn't get you back? Because if there was, I might be able to stall, to try to find them…"

"Well, I am supposed to be Eminent Thropp, but the idea was never popular among the rest of the Munchkinlanders, given my deformity. So, no, I don't think anyone would even miss me." All she could think about was Nessa. She hoped it had been quick. Nessie had always had so much pain. She deserved to go quickly. Elphaba covered her face so Fiyero wouldn't see her tears.

He pulled her close to him again and she shook her head, but didn't fight it. Fiyero sighed heavily, "I know it was my people, and possibly even my father's command, but I would _never_ have killed them. I am so sorry, and I know that doesn't help, but I don't know what else to say."

She tugged away slowly and nodded. "It helps a little. If I have to sleep with you, it's nice to know you at least feel bad."

"About that…"

Elphaba didn't want to think about her family. So she jumped at another subject. "We'll get to that. But I've been meaning to ask, well, what exactly are my duties as your, uh, bed slave?"

"None. Other than what I just said. And I hate that. Not that I don't find you attractive. I wouldn't have chosen you if I didn't, but I didn't exactly want a bed slave to begin with."

"I'm guessing I probably shouldn't talk back to you like I just did."

He laughed. "Probably not. But you don't need to be formal with me. The other servants and slaves do, but bed slaves, since they, uh, do what they do, don't have to."

"I'm sorry, Master."

He cringed. "I don't think that's necessary. Bed slaves have it pretty easy. We've got a few at the castle. I guess you'll be one of them. They each have a small room. And when I say small, I mean it. But they don't do any kitchen or stable work, because if they hurt themselves, it might scar and mar their beauty."

"Am I _your_ bed slave only, or…?" Elphaba gulped. She could barely handle the thought of losing her virginity right now to this boy, but having to sleep with multiple men, possibly even the one who had given the command to kill her family, was too much.

"Just mine."

That was a relief. "How many do you have?"

"Just you. You're my first." Fiyero was flushing.

Elphaba flushed, too. "So all the ones at the castle?"

"My father's. Or my uncles'."

"And how does your mother feel about that?"

"She's dead. Died after I was born."

"Mine died after my brother was born." Damn. She'd been trying not to think of any of that. "So, I literally lie around and do nothing?"

"Except, well, you know."

"Sleep with you."

"I'm sorry."

"You say that an awful lot," she noted. "There's no way you could just, I don't know, let me go?"

"Too many guards."

She nodded. She had figured as much.

"So, what do I eat?"

"Pretty much whatever is brought to you. You won't get an abundance of food, though, because the bed slaves…"

"Can't get fat?" Elphaba guessed.

"Well, yeah."

Elphaba snorted. "I can live with that."

"So, about what we have to do," Fiyero began.

"We have all day and night?"

He nodded.

"Can I have some wine?"

"What?"

He was kind. But she was fifteen. And his people had killed her family. She had no interest in love or sex. Elphaba didn't know if there were any sort of drugs to help with this problem in the Vinkus, but she knew wine was supposed to make things easier, even if she'd never taken more than a sip at church. "I just thought it might be easier."

"I'm not sure if that should offend me."

"Don't let it. It's this entire situation. I just need… something."

"I'll have someone bring us some wine, just a moment." Fiyero got up and left the tent.

Elphaba took a deep breath. "Well," she said to herself, "this should be interesting."


	6. Chapter 5: No Fairytales

**Chapter 5: No Fairytales**

"What would happen if we _didn't_ sleep together tonight?" The girl asked, taking a sip of her second glass of wine and grimacing slightly at the taste. He still wasn't sure whether to think of her as Elphaba or Fae. Fae suited her better, though.

He winced. "My father hands you over to his men and I get someone more experienced."

She raised her eyebrows, clearly horrified.

"Believe me, I wish there was a way out of it."

"Not that I want to, but why don't _you_ want to? You're a boy of, what, eighteen?"

"Sixteen."

"From what I've heard, most teenage boys would love to have a bed slave."

He sighed and poured himself a glass of wine, too. "This was just not how I imagined it."

Fae cackled. "You're a romantic."

"Yes, I suppose I am. It must be all of the fairytales and fantasies I read growing up. What about you? This can't be how you imagined it would be, can it?"

She took another sip. "It's not. Mostly because I never imagined it at all. I'm not the romance type. The books I read were more… scientific. I have read a little of everything, of course, but I was not very fond of romance or fairytales. I found it all so unrealistic."

"That's for sure." Fiyero glanced across the table. The wine was showing. Her cheeks were a darker crimson than usual, though still lovely. Her hair was coming out of the braid she must've put in that morning when he was talking to his father. She had made no move to fix it. "I don't suppose your life has been much of a fairytale."

"It never was, but I'd have to say the last forty-eight hours have been especially un-fairytale like. And most fairytale princesses aren't born green."

He felt a fresh wave of guilt. He'd been pampered his whole life, always complimented, given everything, and here was this girl, this interesting and beautiful girl, who had just lost everything. And he basically _owned_ her. Part of it made him sick. "I never heard of a fairytale Arjiki prince, either."

"Well, there's a difference. You really are prince. I'm not a princess." She began pouring a third glass.

He wasn't sure if he should tell her to slow down. They did have the afternoon and night. But he sensed that perhaps she needed it. "But you were to be Eminent Thropp?"

"I didn't want be. And the Munchkinlanders didn't want me to be, either. So by killing the father who would've insisted on that, your people have done the rest of Munchkinland a favor."

He stared at her. She was… brash. "I am sorry."

"Stop it with that, already. Speaking of princes and eminences and princesses, do _you_ have a princess? How does she feel about this?"

"I believe my father's plan is to line up all the prettiest girls in the tribe when the time comes and marry me to whichever one he pleases."

"Very romantic," she rolled her eyes.

"And it's relatively normal for the nobles and kings in the Vinkus to have bed slaves, tasteless as that might seem."

"Oh, it's not _that_ shocking. People in Munchkinland hide that sort of thing, but it happens. Your people are just more honest. My mother attempted (though not very well) to hide all her affairs from my father. I think he knew." Fae seemed to pause for a moment. "I just don't know if he cared."

"I can't imagine that he didn't."

"You can't? And when your father _does_ choose a princess, my prince, what happens to me?"

"I can't say. Truthfully, I'm not looking forward to that moment, and I don't much believe in adultery. But then I also realize that I may not be very fond of my future wife, especially if my father chooses her, and I may want some company."

"I don't think fairytale princes get 'company.'"

Though he was not necessarily fond of the topic they were speaking about, he was thoroughly enjoying the conversation. There was no denying Fae was witty, albeit quite cynical – though with her current situation, he couldn't blame her for that. "Perhaps they don't. But I think we'd both agree that fairytales aren't realistic."

"And what about your wife? Would she be allowed 'company?' Would I?"

"Why would you…?" Fiyero wasn't sure if he should be bothered by this concept. He began another glass of wine.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You don't even want to sleep with me to begin with, that's why."

"Because we're talking years from now. Things change."

"Well, no, traditionally, my wife would not be allowed a lover or bed slave. And neither would you. I believe that is part of your job description, though."

"Isn't it also in your future wife's job description to be faithful?"

"I suppose it is."

"But not yours."

"No."

"Well, Prince Fiyero, I'm not shocked to inform you that your people are just as sexist as the rest of Oz."

"I apologize on their behalf." He tipped his glass towards hers and they clinked together. "I don't mean to be sexist. I suppose if neither my wife nor I cared for each other, I wouldn't have a problem with her taking a lover. But it couldn't happen. Because kings and queens answer to more than just each other."

"That is true."

"But I'm afraid I've already grown a little fond of you. I'd rather you not take a lover." He was beginning to surprise himself. He wasn't certain he'd given those words permission to leave his mouth.

Fae raised her eyebrows. "I should think that's unfair for several reasons. One, I'm not quite sure yet where I stand on the subject of _you_. And two, you're going to have a wife. That's a little one-sided, is it not?"

He shrugged. "That's quite some time from now. Perhaps we shouldn't jump ahead."

"Fine." Fae placed her glass on the table. "Now. Now, I believe, I'm supposed to do something like this." She took off her robe and got onto the bed. "So perhaps we should _discuss _that?"

Fiyero caught himself grinning the slightest bit.


	7. Chapter 6: Remembrance

**Chapter 6: Remembrance **

Elphaba woke the next morning before the sun had fully risen and blinked slowly. She didn't get up – her head hurt too much. Instead, she threw the covers over her head. "Ow."

Fiyero's hand found hers beneath the blankets. "Good morning."

She slid her hand away and managed to push herself into a sitting position, grateful that the sun was not yet in her eyes. "Please don't talk to me. I can't think with my head like this." She then swung one leg over the side of the bed. "Ow. Again."

"Are you okay?" He sat up quickly.

She pulled her leg back into the bed and tossed the covers off the bed completely, revealing the blood she had fully expected to see dried on the sheets and her inner thighs. "Not really, Prince Fiyero. I don't remember much, but it certainly feels like you could've been a little gentler last night."

"I'm glad I'm not memorable," he muttered. "But I do remember. And I was very gentle."

"Great," she grumbled. "I look forward to next time." Despite the pain that threatened between her legs, she got out of bed with the intention of getting away from Fiyero.

He grabbed her wrist. "Wait." Fiyero cupped her cheek in his palm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Don't worry. It's not hard." She ambled towards her robe, which she couldn't remember dropping on the floor. But it was all of the way across the room so she just decided to sit at the table naked.

"You really don't remember?"

"It's a bit blurry. I remember we were talking about fairytales and marriage somewhere in the middle of that conversation things get fuzzy."

"You shouldn't have had so much wine."

"No. That's exactly _why_ I had the wine."

"Are you going to be okay?" He pushed.

She nodded as she sat down at the table. At some point during the night, someone must've come in and cleaned the wine glasses off of it. "Yes. Most women have to live through this at some point. And it doesn't help that it seems it's true what they say about Vinkun men. I don't know. I might've looked last night, but I don't intend to look now. I'm sure last night was much more fun for you than it was for me. Although that's debatable, because I don't remember much."

Fiyero's face darkened. "I didn't hate it," he said quietly.

"Most men don't."

He got up pulled on a pair of shorts. "I didn't like the part about you bleeding, though."

"I'm pretty sure I didn't, either. I'm not a masochist." She realized she wasn't dressed and got back up. She grabbed the olive oil she'd stolen from yesterday's breakfast and began to clean herself.

"Can I help?" He offered.

"If you want to so badly, why don't you just command me to let you?" She snapped.

"Because that's not what I want."

Elphaba sighed. "What do you want from me? I know what I'm supposed to do, what your father wants. But what do you want? I can't understand you." And in truth, her head hurt so much that it hurt to try.

"I didn't want you to hate me the morning after, that's for sure."

"I don't hate you."

"You don't?"

"As much as I'd like to hate you, Prince Fiyero, I don't. But if you continue to bother me, I might change my mind."

It was an hour or so later when a guard announced Fiyero's father. Elphaba had climbed back into the bed, still nursing her headache. Walking wasn't necessarily painful, but it was a little uncomfortable. She had never pulled the covers back onto the bed, as it was hot and even though she was wearing only her robe, she felt overheated. Fiyero was staring at the chess set, only having just noticed that she'd halfheartedly begun a game twenty-four hours ago.

She would've loved to go back to twenty-four hours ago. While yes, she'd already been a slave, at least she'd been a virgin. And (at least in her mind) her siblings and Nanny had still been alive. And now he she was staring at the man who might be responsible for their deaths.

The man took a quick look around the room. She noted how his eyebrows raised at the sight of the sheets and the bed. His serious look quickly became a grin. "Well, I'm still going to have the medicine woman check her out, son, but I think congratulations are in order."

Elphaba watched Fiyero's face as he frowned and bit his lip. He took a deep breath before speaking. "Do you have to talk like that in front of her?"

"She's a bed slave, Fiyero."

She caught his eye and shook her head. He'd get her into trouble trying to protect her. And she didn't want him to bother.

So Fiyero shrugged. "What do you want, Father?"

"Just to check in." He nodded to his right and the medicine woman came in. Elphaba followed the woman out.

She endured the exam with silence. When she returned to the tent, Fiyero's father was gone.

"Fae, I want to say something. Look, I don't want to treat you like a bed slave, Fae. I'm going to treat you as a friend."  
"A friend who's virginity you took last night?"

He looked down. "I'm sorry. For the millionth time."

She sighed. "It doesn't matter. None of it does. This is my life now. I just need to get used to it." She turned away.

He grabbed her hand. "No. I will make you as comfortable and happy as possible. Just trust me."

"That's a little difficult," she informed him.

He didn't respond.

Two days later, they picked up and moved. Elphaba stayed inside in a carriage with Fiyero. They did not speak, but he was kind enough to lend her a book. He had told her to be careful, for she wasn't supposed to read.

When they made camp that afternoon, Fiyero left her. She got up and made another move at the chess table, which the servants had set up exactly as it was when they left. After that, she read his book, jumping at every moment, afraid she would be caught reading. Once or twice a guard peeked in on her, but he announced himself and she was able to conceal the book. Fiyero didn't return until late in the evening, after she'd been served and eaten dinner.

She found it amusing. Fiyero had warned her that she was not going to be given abundant amounts of food, but that was exactly what she was getting. She had seen one or two of the other bed slaves, the king's and the general's. They were much… curvier than she was. Perhaps they were trying to fatten her up. But she was used to meager meals, and eating much more than she was used to made her sick. The man who brought her dinner always raised his eyebrows when he saw how much was left when he returned for her tray.

When Fiyero did return, he said something she didn't expect to hear. "I think we should sleep together again tonight."

Elphaba stared at him. "Why?"

"Well, you were saying a few days ago that this was your life and you have to get used to it. Eventually, we're going to have to do it again. And I've been asking around about, well, you don't need to know the details, but I did talk to some of the soldiers. It's easier on the woman after the first few times. And if you wait too long in between, um, times, it hurts almost as bad as the first time. Sooner or later, it might even feel good for you."

Elphaba didn't know how to react to this. She understood that his intention was to be kind to her, to help her, to please her, even. And his awkwardness in speaking about it sounded endearing. Part of her wanted to thank him, the other part wanted to scream. Instead, she just said, "Can I have just a little wine, then?"


	8. Chapter 7: Family Matters

**AN: I had this written last night, but my computer is being awful. I had to rewrite it by hand today to make sure it didn't disappear on me. I'm also quite a bit of the way through the next chapter. Anyway, I realize that this isn't the usual "good sex" scenes that I write. Because in real life, that's not usually how it works. It'll change for her, eventually, as Fiyero hopes. But in this chapter. Or the next (you'll see why).**

**Chapter 7: Family Matters**

Fiyero woke after she did the next morning. She was sitting up, reading the same book she'd been reading the day before. He touched her cheek. "Are you feeling okay?"

She nodded. "I can walk. It also helps that I only had one glass of wine. There's no headache this time. But last night still hurt."

"I'm sorry. If you really don't want to again…"

She took a deep breath. "No, actually, I see your point."

"You do?"

"There was barely any blood this time and I'm not nearly so sore. So you're probably right that it will hurt less as we go along. I'm not so sure about it actually feeling good. I've heard that it will, too, but who knows? I've also heard that it doesn't."

"I'll do my best to…"

"Oh, stop it. I'm not your girlfriend, nor your princess. I am a bed slave. To be honest, it makes me uncomfortable."

"What does?"

"You being so… sweet."

Fiyero tried not to laugh. "I see." But he didn't see how he could behave any differently. Within their first twenty-four hours together, she'd learned of her entire family's death. And despite her prickly demeanor, her intelligence and wit were appealing to him. He hoped that perhaps, she was starting to feel something, too. But he didn't see how she could ever forgive him for what his people had done to her family, to her. "I'm just trying to make you feel at home. It's not fair what happened to you, and I can't change it, so I'm trying to make it as easy as possible on you."

She put the book down and looked at him. He hoped he was not mistaken in believing that her face softened. "I appreciate that, Fiyero. But being nice isn't going to make me feel at home."

He paused for a moment. Fiyero realized that Fae hadn't really processed what had happened to her family, and for that reason he had not asked too much about her background. But she had been hiding from it for days now, and he didn't see the problem in asking a question or two. "What do you mean by that?"

"It's not necessarily that anyone was mean. Well, my father had his moments, but my sister didn't even have the capacity to be mean." She shrugged.

He nodded, but stayed silent, hoping she would continue. She might hold back if she thought he was pushing, so he tried to be subtle.

"Shell was just a boy, though he was quite the bratty child. He was the youngest, so he got whatever he wanted. And Nessie was pampered, too, though she didn't act nearly as spoiled as Shell. But she was disabled, so father did his best to treat her best. It was Nanny who doted on Shell."

"No one doted on you?"

She shook her head. "But I, too, doted on Nessa. Perhaps because it was my fault that she…" Fae trailed off, blinking rapidly.

Fiyero got the gist of what she was going to say, so he asked the next logical question. "How was it your fault that your sister was crippled?"

She seemed lost in thought, almost unaware that she was speaking to him. It was as if she was just thinking aloud. "Well, mother was in such a state when she was pregnant with Nessarose, partly because of me, my color, my behaviors, worrying that Nessie would have my deformity, that she was constantly chewing pinlobble leaves to knock herself out. Nanny let it slip once that my parents thought Nessie was armless because of the leaves. I always wanted to make it up to her. I never will, now." He eyes began to tear and she turned towards him, snapping out of her trance. "Did she suffer? Did any of them suffer? Do you know?"

"None of them suffered," he assured her, grateful that he didn't have to lie.

"You're not just telling me that to make me feel better?" She demanded, wiping her eyes and looking into his probingly.

"You know me well, Fae. But in this case, I am not lying. They were shot from afar, each killed instantly."

"Your men must have great aim."

"They better. That's what they've trained their whole lives for."

"That helps a little, I guess," she said calmly.

"I'm glad." He sensed that they were approaching the end of the subject. "If I had known, if I could go back, I'd jump in front of them and stop it from happening a thousand times over."

"I told you to stop with the niceness and the sweetness." Fae laughed.

"Well," he said, half-jokingly, "I guess I must command you to live with it, because it's just how I am."

"And what about you?" She asked.

"What?"

"Your family. If your mother is dead, I'm guessing you were raised by your father. You're obviously nothing alike. How are you so, well, so _you_?"

"Like you, I was raised by a nanny. My nanny's son was stillborn, so she raised me like I was her own."

"How do you live with your father? With the things he makes you do?"

"You think it doesn't upset me?"

"You don't act upset."

"I am. I'm more upset at what happened to your family, at what he made me do to you than what he makes me do in general. But I haven't spent a lt of time around him until this war started and he decided I was old enough to fight. Besides, while what he asks of me is sometimes unpleasant, he's still my father."

"I guess I cn understand that. Unlike my sister, I never bought into my father's religious ramblings but I still went with him on his missions, sang for people when he demanded."

Fiyero perked up. "You sing?"

"No, I will not sing for you."

"Maybe not today," he teased.

"Not ever!" She laughed.

"What if I commanded you to?"

"Would you?" She challenged, grinning.

"We'll see," he grinned back.

After a pause, she got up and walked across the tent, hugging herself. She was silent.

"Fae?"

"Himm?" She did not turn to look at him.

"Do you think you can forgive me? For what my people did? For what I've done to you?"

"You didn't have a choice."

"But it still hurt you," he observed.

"It did," she acknowledged.

"So?"

"So I don't know. It hasn't even been a week. Right now, no. But maybe one day. I resent you much less today than I did several days ago. Does it really even matter?"

"It does to me."

She nodded, still facing away from him. "We'll see."

Fiyero got up and walked to his wardrobe to dress, his armor clinking inside. "Take your time."

She finally turned towards him, curious. "It's still early."

"The Scrow march this way. We are to meet in open battle before noon. This could be one of the last battles, since we've considerably weakened them."

"Will it be like last time?"

"No. It's open battle. No women or children."

She came to him and grabbed his hand. "Please be safe." It was the first time she'd ever reached to touch him. He wondered if she was worried.


	9. Chapter 8: Wounded

**Chapter 8: Wounded**

She did worry about him, but not because she did not want to end up someone else's slave, she told herself. He was unusually kind, and she doubted she would be so lucky again if she was handed off to another man. The soldiers were gone all day; the sounds of fighting rang in the distance. For a while, she waited up for the news, but eventually, her eyelids began to droop and she fell into a light half-sleep.

It was an hour after midnight when she was woken by voices outside the tent. She pulled her robe around her and got out of bed, alarmed.

Several soldiers came in carrying a make-shift stretcher. A nurse accompanied them. Fiyero was on the stretcher. She could see a five-inch gash in his forearm that went all the way down to the bone. Elphaba felt dread pool in the pit of her stomach. "Is he okay?"

No one answered her. She supposed bed slaves didn't warrant answers. So she inserted herself into the group that was surrounding the prince so she could see better. He was awake – which surprised her; the pain must be terrible, yet he wasn't screaming. The fist on the arm that wasn't injured was clenched so tight his knuckles were white. His eyes were watery. "Fae…"

"Get out of the way, girl." A soldier shoved her back.

"No, please. Fae." Fiyero muttered.

"If her presence comforts him, let her stay by his side," his father commanded. Elphaba had not heard or seen him enter the tent, and his kind tone surprised her.

"I have to clean the wound," the nurse said as Elphaba nudged her way back to Fiyero's side. She poured alcohol onto a cloth. "This will sting. You will probably scream."

Fiyero's other hand found hers and grasped it tightly. "I can handle it."

Elphaba did not watch the woman clean the wound. She focused on Fiyero's face, watched his teeth clench and heard him hiss in pain. "You're okay," she said gently, "that's what matters." Having Nessa as a sister had given her a good bedside manner, though she wasn't quite sure how to act in this unique situation.

"How is he?" Fiyero's father asked the nurse. Elphaba looked up, also waiting for the answer.

"He probably won't fight in this war, if it is as short as we hope. I will need to stitch this up, bandage it. As long as it is kept clean and does not get infected, he should be fine. But he will probably need to chew pinlobble leaves for a week." The nurse replied, taking out a medical needle. "This is going to hurt worse."

Fiyero made eye contact with Elphaba and she nodded at him reassuringly. "Stay for this?" He pleaded.

She should have known that being a bed slave for a sixteen-year-old boy would have some aspects of being a nanny. She squeezed the hand she held. "Of course, my Prince."

Someone put some pinlobble leaves in Fiyero's mouth while the nurse readied her equipment, sterilizing it with alcohol, and threaded her needle. The leaves affected him almost immediately. "You're an angel," he informed her a few moments later.

In most situations, Elphaba would've laughed at this. But he was high, and there were others around. So she just murmured, "Hush, Prince Fiyero."

Luckily, he did, staring with fascination as the nurse stitched him up and bandaged him.

"I will need to come back daily to clean and redress the wound, as well as to make sure it isn't infected." The nurse announced when she was finished and Fiyero had been helped to the bed.

"No," Elphaba snapped. "Leave some supplies here and I will handle it."

"I'm not sure…"

"Let her," Fiyero said drowsily.

The nurse looked to Fiyero's father, who, to Elphaba's surprise, nodded. Everyone left the room, except him. "Son, I'm glad you are okay. We did win this battle. And you helped. I will check in on you later."

"Thanks, Dad." She'd never heard Fiyero call his father Dad.

Elphaba climbed onto the bed beside him. "What happened?"

"I… I don't…" Fiyero seemed to have trouble thinking.

She rolled her eyes. Perhaps she'd ask him that when he was a little less drugged up.

"I love you, you know," he told her.

Elphaba froze. _He's not himself. He doesn't know what he's saying. _"That's nice, Fiyero."

"You're so wonderful and beautiful and you make me _feel things_," he said with the wide-eyed excitement of a child.

"I think it's time you fell asleep," she told him.

"I'll try! Can I hold you?"

"With which arm?" Elphaba laughed.

"The good one."

What was the harm? "Fine."

The next morning, she moved his arm away and woke him carefully. "Prince Fiyero?"

"Fae?" He looked tired, but he also looked and sounded like himself.

"I need to clean and redress your wound. It's not going to be pleasant."

"I know." He held out his arm. "What did they give me last night?"

"Actually, it was this morning. And they gave you pinlobble leaves. I saw the wound, Fiyero. You needed them."

"I don't even remember getting the bandage put on."

"You don't remember anything after that, either?"

He shook his head. "Not at all."

"Oh. Well, for the most part, you were just tired and talked a bunch of nonsense. Nothing serious." She unwrapped the bandage quickly, examining the wound for signs of infection.

"I hope I didn't embarrass myself," he smiled.

"Not too much," she responded casually. Satisfied the wound looked uninfected, she grabbed the alcohol off the table that the nurse had left it on and poured it on a clean cloth. "Do you remember that this stung pretty badly?"

"I remember pain, but not coherently."

"Well, this wasn't pleasant. And I'm the one cleaning it this time, so I can't hold your hand."

"I'll be fine," he insisted.

"I'll be as gentle as I can." She dabbed the cloth against the wound and saw him bite his tongue. "I know it hurts."

"Well, it's only fair that you get to hurt me, after what I've done."

"Stop with that. You had no choice. We've discussed this." She didn't really blame him, not anymore. "I'm going to wrap it again with a clean bandage. You're lucky this didn't tear up much muscle. Can you use it much?"

He moved his arm around and grimaced. "Not much. I guess when we sleep together I'll hold myself over you with one arm."

"Let's not worry about that right now," she said evasively. "We will figure something else out when the time comes."

"We can try different positions. I've read about them."

"Aren't you the curious one?" Elphaba laughed. "I thought you weren't that interested in sex."

"I didn't day I wasn't interested; I just said I wasn't ready yet, although obviously that didn't matter to my father."

She changed the subject. "Last night you couldn't tell me what happened. Do you remember now?"

"It was a spear, a very sharp one. I didn't even feel it for two or three minutes. It was only when I felt the blood soaking through my armor that I realized what had happened to me. I was so shocked I fell. Several soldiers flocked to me immediately and got me to the battlefield nurse, but she was so busy with other patients that she never even got to me. I don't think she knew I was a prince, which I am happy about. Several of those men could've died if she'd put me first. Then they brought me here."

"Well," she told him, "I'm glad that you're okay. I'll admit, I would've been devastated if something happened to you."


	10. Chapter 9: Healing Wounds

**Chapter 9: Healing Wounds**

He and Fae slept together the next night, though it was incredibly awkward. He tried his best to hold himself up with one arm, but his arm began to shake and Fae helped hold him up, looking almost bored (and wincing occasionally) as he moved within her. They were both exhausted by the time it was over, and neither of them had much enjoyed it. He fell asleep with his wounded arm draped over her.

He had begun to move the arm more, but it certainly wasn't in sword-wielding shape. The nurse told him it wouldn't be for quite some time. Several days later it was strong enough for him to lean on it to hold himself above her. She hadn't seemed like she'd been in pain that time, he'd even imagined for a moment that he saw her smile. He wanted so badly for her to enjoy it as he was getting to (although the last time had been more embarrassing than enjoyable). Perhaps it was how she felt about him that prevented her from liking it. Fiyero, too, had read a little bit of everything, and he'd read one or two pieces of very, uh, descriptive fiction that depicted what women might feel. He wanted to make her feel that way.

Fiyero kissed Fae awake one morning a week or so later, smiling as her eyes fluttered open.

"What was that?" Fae asked, a smile peeking at the corners of her mouth (or maybe he was imagining it – he hoped not).

"I just wanted to wake you up."

"There are other ways." Fae sat up and immediately went to grab the medical supplies on the table to clean his wound. The nurse was planning to remove the stitches in a few days and he was partly dreading and partly looking forward to it. It would be painful, but it would also be a step to recovering.

"I can think of some," he replied suggestively.

She rolled her eyes and she unwrapped his bandages. "I do not believe I would enjoy that. Too much of a surprise, and a slightly painful one at that."

He wasn't sure she was still in pain, but he didn't question that. "But you enjoyed how I woke you up just now?"

"I didn't say that. You know, for a boy who said he wouldn't sleep with me if I didn't want to, you certainly seem to press the issue." She did not sound upset.

"It feels good," he shrugged. "I want you to feel good, too."

"Reading makes me feel good."

"I want us to feel good together."

"Oh, what does it matter? I am _your_ bed slave, here to please you."

"I'm hoping it'll be mutual."

She took out the alcohol, poured it onto a cloth and looked up into his eyes. "If you're going to continue talking about this, insisting that you want me to feel good, then let me say something. Yes, it feels good when you kiss me, sometimes when you touch me. But sometimes I'm so afraid, dreading what's to come, that I can't focus on that. This last time, it wasn't so bad. It was tolerable. So I'm not dreading next time as much. But stop acting like I'm going to be begging you for it!"

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

She sighed. "So am I. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. My duty is to please you and I shouldn't complain about it, not to you."

"Don't pretend your feelings don't matter."

She began to clean his wound and he winced, but he liked watching her tend to his wound. Despite the fact that the nurse had offered to stop by daily, Fae had insisted on caring for him herself, and that convinced him that she must hold some affection in her heart for him. Of course, when he told her that, she responded with her usual, "What does it matter?"

He was pleased that she didn't attempt to deny his statement and gave her his usual reply. "It matters to me."

"But _why_?"

He hadn't expected this question. The truth was that he harbored a fondness for her – just a little, of course – and desperately hoped she harbored just a little (he would mind if there was more, either) of the same. That was the same reason he wanted her to enjoy sleeping with him. But still, he hesitated before answering her. "Because I like you," he said simply. He realized his response was unclear, but that had been his intention.

"I see." She was not done questioning. Fae paused, thinking for a moment. "Why me?"

"Why do I like you?"

"No, no. Why did you _choose_ me? I was at the end of the line, off to the side. I'm not a beautiful Vinkun girl. So why in Oz did you choose _me _for a bed slave?"

It had been around two weeks (or had it been even more?) since that day. It felt like months, maybe even years had gone by. She probably felt the same. A lot had changed for both of them since that day, that moment. "There was more than one reason."

"And those reasons would be?" She prompted.

"You're right. You're not a beautiful Vinkun girl. You have a different beauty than those girls. One I like more."

She stared at him, not speaking. Her cheeks darkened.

"And there was something in your eyes. It wasn't just fear, like the others. I saw strength. I saw defiance. And I wanted that fire."

"Oh." She seemed unsure of herself all of the sudden. "You really...?" Fae shook her head. "Never mind."

"No, ask. You can ask me anything."

"It's nothing," she insisted.

"Maybe it's not nothing to me," he pressed.

"Fine." And then her voice changed. For the first time, she sounded her age, not the typical wise-beyond-her-years tone she usually had. "I'm confused. You really think I'm beautiful?" She looked at her hands.

So that was it. Perhaps back in Munchkinland, her color was not admired. "I do."

"No wonder you got yourself stabbed, Fiyero. You probably couldn't see that damned spear if they had waved it in front of your face! Have you ever had your eyes checked?" The anger in her voice both shocked and confused him.

"Whoa. I thought women liked being told they were beautiful." He was utterly bewildered by her behavior.

"Did you miss the part where they don't like being lied to?" Fae snapped.

"I wasn't lying!" He was starting to feed off of her emotions. "Did you miss the part where men dislike being yelled at just for speaking their minds and complimenting a woman?"

"I am so tired of your fake sweetness!"

"Fake? I have never lied to you. Not once. And you shouldn't talk about lying, since when I met you, you pretended you couldn't understand me!" He was flushed with anger.

"Well, maybe if our situations were reversed, you'd understand. I had to lie, to pretend. I couldn't risk saying something that would get me into a worse spot than I was already in. I was scared to death, Fiyero! And you want me to love you after all that?"

"I never asked you to love me, just to give a damn."

"Well, I do! I give a damn. Your sickening sweetness has seeped its way through and I care. Are you happy?"

He blinked. "As a matter of fact, I am."

She laughed. "You would be."

He went to her and kissed her hard on the mouth. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about this anymore."

Fae kissed him back. "Maybe we shouldn't _talk_ at all..."

He raised his eyebrows. "Fae?"


	11. Chapter 10: Giving In

**AN: This chapter is rated M. And they are younger here, so I wasn't sure how to write it. But in this culture, this is more normal. Anyway, next chapter, we get to meet a new character who will help Fiyero gain some more insight into his relationship with Elphaba. I hope you like this. Sometimes I feel like I've written "scenes" so many times, especially between these two, that I'm running out of ideas!**

**Chapter 10: Giving In**

Maybe it was the passion with which he kissed her. Maybe it was the anger boiling over. Whatever it was, it made her want him. It stirred something that had hinted when he touched her, that had been masked by fear of pain until recently. When she'd realized it no longer hurt, that maybe it _could_ feel good, she hadn't wanted to admit that to him. But now... "Hush," she murmured, putting a finger to his lips.

His eyes were wide with surprise, but the smile on his face told her it was a pleasant surprise. "Whatever you want, Fae."

"Oh, believe me, we'll get to what I want," she replied. Elphaba wrapped her arms around his neck, looking at him with a grin.

"You," he breathed, kissing her, "have to be the strangest person I have ever met." Fiyero slid his hand onto her west and pulled her against him roughly.

"I don't hear you complaining," she whispered, tugging him to the bed by his shirt.

"That's because I like it."

She climbed onto the bed and he followed. She laid herself back and beckoned for him to join her. Elphaba couldn't believe she was doing this. But if she had to anyway, shouldn't she do it when she wanted to and when she would most enjoy it?

And she certainly was enjoying it, gasping as his lips traced her jaw, her neck, nipping gently with his teeth. She pulled him back and kissed him again as she unbuttoned his shirt. In return, he untied her robe, reaching inside, teasing her breasts. She swallowed hard, trying not to moan. His body above her made her feel weak. She could _feel_ her heart beating, excitement pulsing through her veins.

When he pushed a finger inside of her, she bit her tongue. She wanted to cry out, but there was still a part of her that didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was pleasing her. Elphaba panted, trying to catch her breath, trying to keep herself under control as she yanked his pants off of his waist.

She thought he'd enter her then, but he delayed. Instead, his mouth replaced his hand below her waist and she let out the smallest squeak in both pleasure and surprise. His tongue slid back and forth and she clutched the bedsheets helplessly. He was teasing her, taking her up and up and she wanted to reach that plateau, that height. She raised her hips to his mouth, pleading with him to take her.

He obeyed, pulling back, smiling at her. He rested the elbow from his wounded arm on one side of her and held himself up with the other as he entered her. At that point, she allowed herself the smallest cry of ecstasy and lifted her hips to meet him. He had taken her so far already that within moments, that moment she'd begged for hit her and for that moment she could barely move, barely think, her brain on fire with pleasure. When she regained her control, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her hand found it's way to his lower back, dragging him into her.

He thrust harder than he had before, but she felt no pain. Their hips crashed together, primed with sweat and fluid. When he stopped over an hour later, her brain felt tingly from the ecstasy lightning that had torn through it time after time. He collapsed on top of her with a groan. "Fae..."

"Let me catch my breath," she murmured. Was that why her mother had cheated on her father? For Oz's sake, if Fiyero could do _that_ to her, maybe this whole thing wasn't so bad. She shook her head. Not even sixteen and thinking like a harlot, her father would've said. But her father wasn't there. "Sweet Oz." Her brain couldn't handle thinking too much.

"Fae, I've liked what we did before, but that was... that was amazing."

"It didn't hurt." Elphaba tried to pretend she was compose.

"I should hope not. I'd say it most definitely did other things, though."

"Shut up."

He kissed her nose and moved to the side, giving her space. "Didn't you just tell me you'd never beg for it?"

"And I didn't beg," she quipped.

"Not verbally."

She did not want to deal with this right now. Elphaba was trying to process what she'd just done and how she felt about it. "Tease me later, okay? I need a minute."

"Sorry, Fae." He put his hands behind his head and relaxed.

Despite the fact that it had been utterly incredible, something felt wrong. Perhaps it was that she was a bed slave. Or maybe her father's preaching had worked it's way into her head after all that time. Or maybe, just maybe, she wanted to feel more for Fiyero, maybe she _did _feel more. But what did it matter? As she had told herself, she had to do it, so she had every right to enjoy it. That settled it. No need to complicate things with emotions. As far as she knew, bed slaves weren't supposed to be feeling these sort of things, these confusing things. Emotions were an unnecessary burden in this situation.

Besides, it really had felt good. Her body was still reeling. There were parts of her that wanted to dance and jump for joy, parts of her that hadn't been awake until he had awakened them less than two hours ago. She smiled a little to herself and settled comfortably back into the bed.

She turned back to Fiyero. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I'm just a little, well, I was a little flustered."

Elphaba could see Fiyero trying not to grin.

She resisted the urge to smack the smirk off his face. "Stop gloating."

"I'm not. I'm just enjoying these feelings." He pulled her close. "You are amazing."

"You're going to make me mad again," she threatened.

"Considering how that ended last time, I don't mind," he said, kissing her sweetly.

She was starting to regret giving into her desires, good as it may have felt. It had only encouraged his incessant affectionate behavior, which drove her crazy. The more he acted like that, the more lost she became about her own actions and the intentions and feelings behind them. While she appreciated that he treated her with such kindness, part of her wished he'd just treat her like a bed slave and stop making things so convoluted. Elphaba found herself yawning. For Oz's sake, why was she so tired? It was still morning. She couldn't even make an excuse for a nap this early in the day.

Fiyero, of course, noticed. "Tired, Fae?"

"Only because putting up with you is so exhausting."

"I'm tired, too. This," he gestured to the bed, to her, "makes me sleepy. That's why I usually suggest it before bed."

Elphaba shrugged. "I suppose."

"Well, let's go back to sleep. I've got nothing to do today. Come here." He settled himself under the blankets and held out an arm, wanting her to curl up close to him.

She looked at him apprehensively. His arms were inviting, safe. And to feel safe was so tempting, but it was also deceptive. His people had captured her, killed her family. She was his slave. Could she ever truly feel safe in his arms?

He must've seen her uncertainty and made it easy for her. "I command you to come and take a nap with me." How childish that sounded!

She nodded, relieved that he had simplified matters for her and taken away the decision she hadn't wanted to make, small as it was. Elphaba crawled into his arms, closed her eyes and tried to block out the screaming in her mind. _Just for a few minutes_, she told herself. _Just a little peace._

Another battle came, but this time Fiyero didn't fight. The nurse said he was mostly healed, but he couldn't participate, just to be safe. Elphaba pretended it didn't make a difference if he fought or not, but she was grateful he wasn't.

Fiyero, however, seemed anxious. If they won, this would almost surely be the final battle. His father was out there and he wasn't. Elphaba sat up that night with him as the battle raged through the night. She tried to distract him – first with words, then with sex, then with a chess game – but to no avail.

She felt a little resentment. At least he _had _ a father to worry over. His people had murdered hers. She tried not to think like that. It was unpleasant and unfair. He himself had not hurt her, not of his own accord. She squeezed his hand for the ninth time that night. "I'm sure everything is going fine. You've won most every other battle. The war will be over soon."

He nodded absently, and perked up as a cheer erupted from outside. Several moments later, Fiyero's father burst in. "We won! The war is over. Negotiations will take place at Kiamo Ko. We're going home!"

_Home?_ Elphaba wondered.


	12. Chapter 11: No Place Like Home

**Chapter 11: No Place Like Home**

Fiyero was excited to return to Kiamo Ko. His friend Watio was a stable boy, and he hadn't spoken to him since the war began. He missed having him to talk to. Fae talked to him, of course, but he couldn't exactly talk to her _about_ her, about the way he felt. She got severely uncomfortable about those things.

While Fae was settling into her room and being shown around the castle, Fiyero headed down to the stables. Watio greeted him. "How was the war? I am glad to see you aren't injured – at least not too badly," the stable boy eyed the bandage on Fiyero's arm.

"It's fine. And the war was very eventful, but I don't mean the fighting."

"He didn't?" Watio was well aware that Fiyero's father had been attempting to get him a bed slave. The two had discussed it on numerous occasions.

"He did."

"Did you?"

Fiyero nodded. "I didn't have much of a choice..." He began explaining what had happened to him (and to Fae) in the past weeks.

"She sounds a little rude, if you don't mind my saying so. Why do you let her get away with it?" Watio asked when Fiyero finished his story.

"She's not rude, just a little standoffish. And I can't blame her, with what she's gone through. And I like her." Fiyero felt defensive.

Watio raised his eyebrows. "Interesting."

"What?"  
"You seem rather attached to this girl for her to be just a bed slave, Fiyero."

"She's different."

"Sounds like it. Do you have anything for me?" When they were young, Fiyero had taught is friend to read. Since then, he'd been sneaking him books from the library which stable boys were forbidden to enter.

Fiyero handed Watio a book. "What do I do about this girl?"

"Nothing, except just _do_ her. She's a bed slave. You're just sappy because she's the first one you've had. It'll change when you have more."

"I don't want others," Fiyero said quickly.

"I need to meet this girl. Bring me to her."

"I can't. You know you're not supposed to be on that side of the castle. Her bedroom is going to be close to mine."

"Then bring her hear. Bed slaves have more freedom."

"And what do I tell her?" Fiyero demanded. "That I was talking about her and now you want to meet her? That won't freak her out a little?"

"She has to come if you tell her."

Fiyero sighed, but returned with Fae and hour later. She looked confused. "Why did you drag me to the stables?" She asked him. "I do not want to go horseback riding. To be honest, I'm a little sore, thank you very much."

Watio came out from one of the stalls at that moment. "Well, that was more than I wanted to know."

Fae blushed. "I apologize. I'm not used to other people being around."

"Fae, this is Watio. He's my friend. We grew up together." Since he had no siblings, his father had said that Watio, a servant's son, could play with him when they were young so that he got some human interaction.

"And I've heard plenty about you," Watio grinned.

Fiyero glared at his friend and turned to Fae. "I was just telling him about the war and you came up." He moved closer to Fae, keeping himself between his friend and his lover.

"I'm sure," she said, looking at her feet. "I still don't understand why I'm here."

"When I mentioned you, he wanted to meet you."

"What am I, your girlfriend?" Fae rolled her eyes. "I'm just a slave, Fiyero."

"Exactly," Watio chimed in.

"But you've spent almost every moment with me for the past few weeks. It's a little different than it would have been if this had started here at Kiamo Ko. You took care of me when I was injured."

She sighed. "I suppose that makes sense."

"So, what do you think of our beautiful country?" Watio joked.

Fae just glared at him.

"She doesn't have much of a sense of humor." He told Fiyero.

"Well, let's see, once I crossed the Vinkun border, my family was killed and I was given to the Prince as a sex slave. How do you _think_ I like it, you ass?" Fae walked out of the stables.

Fiyero stayed for a moment. "Nice going. I was hoping you two could get along!"

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm supposed to say to her. 'How do you like Fiyero, because he has a thing for you?'" Watio said.

"If I can get her back down here again some time, you are going to think of something, something nice!" Fiyero left, too. He jogged up to Elphaba's room, where she sat on her bed, staring emptily at the wall. "I'm sorry. He's a little awkward. We were basically alone growing up. Neither one of us is that good with other people our age."

"No, I'm sorry. I really should keep myself in check. A bed slave shouldn't walk out without being dismissed. And he wasn't that rude."

He sat down on the bed beside her and the mattress springs creaked. His mattress was so much softer than hers. "I was hoping the two of you would be friends."

"I could use a friend, but I'm not sure that's my first choice."

"I apologize for him. He didn't mean to be like that."

"It's not a big deal." She sat and seemed to think for a moment. "How are things going to work now that we're here?"

"Well, you have your own room now. I'm sure you're happy about that."

"I am. I need my space."

"And I respect that. But you are welcome to sleep in my room should you decide you are more comfortable there. Once my arm is finished healing, I will have to spend some time training. When I turned sixteen, I was done getting tutored, but I still spend some time in the library. So I won't be bothering you all day."

"I can't go to the library, can I?"

"I can't say for sure. I can bring you books, if it would help."

"I'd like that. Fiyero, what happens when I get old? I wouldn't be much use as a sex slave then, would I?"

"Most women go to the kitchens after, or to clean or to the stables." But Fiyero didn't want her to go anywhere. Sweet Oz, Watio was right, Fae did have an unnatural hold on him.

"And if I get pregnant?"

"I honestly don't know." He hadn't thought about that.

"It's never happened before?" She seemed shocked.

"Maybe. I've never paid any attention. I'm sure it was kept quiet."

"Babies are hard to keep quiet, Fiyero."

"I wasn't paying attention."

She seemed uneasy about this, though he could not understand why.

"You're not pregnant, are you?"

"No!" Fae laughed. "But a girl worries about these things. I'd rather that not happen for quite some time. I'm trying to keep track, but it's not easy."

"Why don't I show you my room? You'll probably spend plenty of time there." He figured he should change the subject and led her out of the room.

She followed him down the hall. "Not half as much time as you'd probably like," she teased.

"We'll see." His room was much larger than hers, with much more furniture. He had more than just a bed (which, unlike hers, was king size), a bedside table (he had two), a dresser and a closet. Fiyero's room had a couch, chairs, a table and several bookshelves.

Fae gravitated to the bookshelves immediately.

"And that," he told her, "is why I think you'll spend more time in here than you thought."


	13. Chapter 12: Back Off

**Chapter 12: Back Off**

Elphaba spent a lot of time in Fiyero's room even when he wasn't in it. When he would leave for training or to meet with his father (among other things), she'd grab a book and sit on the couch. No one came in there unless Fiyero requested that his room be cleaned, and he liked to keep it clean himself. He wasn't much for letting other people do things for him, and she respected that.

Sometimes she would fall asleep on the couch during the day (if Fiyero had kept her up the night before, it was more than likely that she would) and she wouldn't hear Fiyero come in. The first time she fell asleep there, he scared her half to death when she awoke in his arms, being carried to the bed. He had only meant to let her sleep more comfortably, but the movement had startled her and she had almost kicked him. After that, he simply woke her and she put herself in the bed (either his or hers, depending on if she was still tired).

She turned sixteen without anyone even knowing it was her birthday, and she liked it that way. Her birthday passed without comment, though his seventeenth was celebrated much more thoroughly. Elphaba was even allowed a slice of the cake which was baked for him. That was one thing she really couldn't complain about. She was fed well, probably better than she had been back home in Munchkinland.

Fiyero had gone off one afternoon to talk to his friend (she still didn't much like Watio, but the two young men had a camaraderie she envied) and she read one of Fiyero's books, one on the theory of Animal origins. He burst in an hour later, shocking her out of the spell that books put on her. "Can we talk?"

"What's going on?" She was concerned.

"Nothing bad. Don't worry about that," he assured her, sitting beside her on the couch.

"That's helpful, I guess."

Fiyero took a deep breath. "I've been thinking a lot, Fae. And I can't stop thinking about you, even when I'm not with you. I feel something for you, probably more than I should."

She stood up and walked to the window. "And what is the point of even telling me this?"

"I thought... I thought you should know. I thought maybe you might feel..."

"The same?" Elphaba hugged herself. "I don't even quite understand how you feel. So how would I even know if I do?"

"I feel... I feel like I want no one else in the world."

"And I feel like you've lost your mind. How many times must I remind you that I am a _bed slave_?"

"That doesn't stop me from feeling! And it shouldn't stop you."

There were other things stopping her from feeling things for him. Like what had happened to her family. And being a bed slave also played a part. "It does make a difference."

"Would you feel something for me if we had met some other way?"

"How can I know? This is what it is." And she had never said she didn't feel something. But she wasn't going to point that out to him. "There's nothing you can do to change it."

"I realize that."

"Then _why_ did you have to tell me?"

"I thought it was the right thing to do, although now I'm not so sure."

"And I still don't understand what it is you feel. It's not definable."

"I don't know what it is!"

"Well why don't you tell me when you figure it out? Because I don't feel like dealing with this right now." Elphaba's mind was a whirlwind. This was not happening. She had dreaded this since he'd begun to be so affectionate, but had just chalked it up to his usual behavior or his not knowing how to really behave around girls. Now he was confirming it was more than just that. And she wouldn't share those feelings. She couldn't, not like this.

"Then go ahead," he pointed at the bedroom door.

"I will!" She ran to her bedroom and threw herself onto her bed. She wanted to scream. What was wrong with him? Was he _trying_ to drive her off the wall? Yes, he was sweet and and wonderful to her and yes, he did things to her that she had never believed possible. But that simply could _not_ matter. Elphaba hated him for this. Well, she didn't, actually, but she wished she did. It wasn't fair.

He'd already taken over her life in so many ways; he couldn't ask for her heart, too. He had no right to it! All she'd give him was her body. A prince whose people had killed her family could have no claim to more than that. Even if she wanted to care, she'd never forgive herself. What would Nessa or Father and their beloved Unnamed God say about loving the man that was indirectly responsible for the death of your family?

He came to her room the next evening. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged. What choice did she have? She was his bed slave. She couldn't very well send him away. "Why did you have to tell me at that moment?"

"I'd been talking abut with Watio and he, well, sort of challenged me to just come out with it."

Well, that was why Watio acted the way he did around her. Sometimes she thought those two were twice as idiotic when they were together, as though they fed off of one another. "Well, it was a damn stupid idea."

"I suppose it was." He touched her cheek. "I'm just confused about this."

"Well, thank you so much for unnecessarily sharing that confusion with me!"

"I thought maybe if you told me how you felt, it might start to make some sense."

"Did it?"

"I don't know because you never explicitly told me how you felt."

"You weren't exactly very clear, either."

"Clearer than you."

He was infuriating! He pushed and pushed and if he didn't stop, he was going to break something. Most likely, he was going to break her. Because she wouldn't allow herself to even consider these feelings. "I don't think this is a conversation that needs to be had."

"But I do."

She couldn't take it. "Fiyero, please. I can't handle this right now, maybe not ever. Pressing the issue is only going to cause more problems. Back off."

"What is it, though? Is it what happened to your family? Is it that you're a bed slave? Is it me? Why can't you just...?"

"It's everything! Now please," she pleaded, "just stop.

He nodded solemnly. "If that's what you want."

"It is what I want, desperately."

Months went by as the two danced around one another, avoiding talk of anything remotely personal. They played chess, slept together, did puzzles. They talked about other people, about science, books, politics, but never each other. Until one day, when Elphaba had no choice but to tell him.

She was awake first, as she was almost every day in the past week. Elphaba bit her cheek and shook him awake. "Fiyero?"

He sat up groggily. "What is it?" He paused for a moment. "You don't look so good."

"I've been... I'm pregnant."

"WHAT?"


	14. Chapter 13: Clutch

**Chapter 13: Clutch**

Fiyero didn't know how to respond to that. At seventeen, not many men expect to be approached about it at all. He sat down on his bed after she repeated herself. "Oh." No more words would come.

"I've tried really hard to track things, but nothing's even certain with that sort of thing. I don't know what's called for in this situation."

He was surprised by how calm she seemed. "Would you like me to speak to my father and figure out the next step?"

"That would be helpful."

So he left her in his room and sought out his father. The king was in his office. The guards left him pass unannounced. "Father, there's a, um, situation with Fae."

"Your bed slave?" He looked up from his papers.

"Yes. Um, Father... she's pregnant."

His father did not look as surprised or concerned as he had expected. "I see. How far along?"

Well, he hadn't noticed the change yet. "Not very."

"Good. We can handle that," his father said simply.

He didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean by that?"

"The medicine woman can make sure the child isn't brought to term. It's a bit of a painful procedure, but..."

"Wait, I thought they only did those procedures in the City where doctors are trained for it."

"Well, it's not as safe, but I'm not going to spend money sending her to the City."

"What do you mean it's not safe?"

"Sometimes women get sick. And it's more painful. Only one woman has ever actually died from an infection, though."

"You're kidding me." This was why he'd never noticed a pregnant bed slave. "You can't do this to her."

"She'll be fine. You won't be able to _be_ with her for quite some time afterward, though. There are other slaves around."

"I don't care about that. She could die! And you're putting her through hell. The doctors in the City could take better care of her."

"She's just a bed slave. I won't bother. Listen, let me talk to her."

"No."

"I'm going to go talk to her now. You go train." It was an order, not a request.

"But..."

"Go, now."

Fiyero went through his training missing every block he was supposed to put up. He could not focus. The moment they let him go he ran to Fae's room and threw the door open. She looked up and him, shaking. "Oh, Fae..."

"Your father talked to me."

"I know he did. I'm sorry. I begged him to reconsider."

"Why? You want me to have it?"

"I'm not sure what I wanted, but if this was going to be done, I wanted done in the City." He sat beside her on her bed and pulled her into his arms. "I'll take care of you."

"Don't say that."

"No, I will."

"Fiyero, the medicine woman will be here in an hour."

"Wait, it's happening _today_?"

She nodded.

"I'm so sorry." He ran his hands through her hair. "I am so, so sorry."

"I know. I don't blame you. Not this time."

Fiyero was sent from the room when the medicine woman arrived, but stayed nearby. He heard Fae scream once or twice and almost tore the door down. When he was finally allowed back in, Fae was crying. He ran to her and drew her into his arms. "How bad was it?"

"I don't want to move. Ever again," she murmured.

"That's fine. You can stay in bed as long as you want. The servants will bring you food. And I'll stay with you."

"You don't have to."

"I will." He kissed her forehead. "Do you want to stay in my room or yours?"

"Here. I'm not walking anywhere."

"I could carry you," he offered.

"I won't let you."

"Then we'll stay in here." He settled in beside her and held her. "Do you think you can sleep?"

She shook her head. "It hurts too much."

"Just a moment." Fiyero got up and went to the next room, where the medicine woman was cleaning a hook-shaped tool covered in blood. He tried not to throw up. "Can you get her something for the pain, please?"

"No I cannot. Pinlobble leaves are hard to find. Only members of the royal family are allowed any. Bed slaves are not."

He threw his hands in the air. "This is all just ridiculous." Fiyero went back into Fae's room. "I was just checking with the medicine woman. She says she'll come check on you tomorrow." He didn't mention that he'd asked for pinlobble leaves and got none.

She had curled herself into a fetal position and was literally biting her fingers. "I'm fine if I never see her again," she muttered.

He crawled back into the bed. "I will never forgive my father for this. Never."

His father never found out that he spent the next weeks in Fae's room. He barely ever saw him unless he went to find him. So he spent every moment with her when he wasn't training.

Often times she trembled all night. Even when she didn't, he'd awake and find her clutching helplessly at his chest. He'd pull her closer, try to protect her, but he couldn't protect her from what had already happened. He wished, for her sake, that she had never come to the Vinkus. He wished she was safe at home with her family. He wished she was happy. Fiyero wanted more than anything for her to be happy again, and he would do whatever it took to get her as close as possible. He hated seeing her so sad, so helpless.

She did suffer from a small infection – he found her feverish twenty-four hours after the procedure. The medicine woman gave her some herbs and luckily enough, she healed. He stayed up at night and wiped the sweat and tears away. Some days she wouldn't eat and he'd have to pester her relentlessly until she did. It took more than two weeks for her to get better.

"I think," she said, getting out of the bed gingerly, "that you don't need to stay in here anymore." It had been almost a month.

He nodded. "You need space?"

"I do," she told him. "Now that I can walk a little without hurting myself, I want time to think on my own."

"That's fine. But if you need anything, please send someone for me."

"I will, Fiyero. But I'll be fine. If I don't come see you tonight, come here." She nudged him towards the door.

He needed time to think. This whole ordeal had made things even more complicated than they had been before. But he was starting to understand his feelings better. He thought maybe he loved her.


	15. Chapter 14: Realization

**AN: I feel like this story MIGHT be shorter than others. But here's the thing: I have an idea for an ending. But it would actually end at a point where there COULD be a lot more story to tell, but that part of the story I've told ten different ways. Perhaps there'd be a sequel. Or maybe just keep this story going? I'm concerned about how much more I can do with this story that will be original and I'd like some help discussing it. What I'm saying is that I'd love it if someone, any of you, would message me and take some time to help me with it. That's something I love about this site, that we can work on these things together. Anyway, I'll be waiting!**

**Coming up in this chapter, Elphaba has a revelation with a little help from someone you wouldn't expect!**

**Chapter 14: Realization**

The moment Fiyero left the room, Elphaba realized thinking wasn't exactly what she wanted to do anymore. She sat on her bed, hugging her belly. It wasn't as though she wanted a child, but the pain had been almost unbearable. And Fiyero had literally taken care of her. Within two days, she had noted his exhaustion, but he never complained. This hadn't been his fault. The logical thing to do had been to tell his father, and it was his father who had set everything else in motion. But if she thought about it that way, her mind got lost. Then why couldn't she just forgive him for what his people had done when it had been his father's command, not his?

She heard Fiyero leave his room and pass by her room as he headed downstairs and outside to practice his archery. He'd be gone for over an hour. At first, she tried to stay in her room and think, but after what felt like forever had passed, Elphaba slipped out of her room and into his. His room offered much needed distractions. She perused his bookshelves but could not make a decision. Her mind was too much of a whirlwind too even think about books.

He cared for her. He had told her that. But did she care for him more than she wanted? She knew in her heart that she did. The problem was that she didn't know if she could allow herself to really _feel_ those things. "Oh, Nessie. If you could see me now. You would laugh at me. I never cared for emotions. But Nessie, his people killed you." Elphaba wasn't one to pray, or even to believe in the afterlife, but she felt so _lost. _She threw her body down on the couch. "Ow!"

Elphaba felt something hard underneath her and pulled out a book from under the cushion she had sat on. It was worn and she could not read the title, so she opened it. It was a bible, and the passage she turned to read, "The Unnamed God forgives all sins. So must his people."

She looked up, suddenly spooked. "Nessa?" She didn't believe in the Unnamed God. But this was a message. Maybe not from Nessa. Maybe not from her father's Unnamed God. Maybe simply from her subconscious. Or maybe it was a coincidence. It didn't matter. She felt a tear drip down her cheek. She sniffled.

At that moment, Fiyero came back into the room, taking his shirt off as he entered, ready to change out of his sweaty clothes. "Fae?"

She looked up at him and wiped her cheek. "Fiyero."

"Did you hurt yourself? Are you okay?"

"I'm more than okay."

He sat beside her. "I was wondering where that went," he said, taking the book from her. "I was reading this to better understand exactly what it was your father was preaching."

She gave him a thin smile. "Fiyero, a while ago you tried to tell me something."

"I did." He sighed. "And I hate to tell you, my feelings have only gotten stronger. I think..."

Elphaba knew what he was a put to say but put a finger to his lips. "Don't. Fiyero, I'm starting to feel those things, too."

"You are?"

"I am. I don't just care about you because of what's happened to me. I care about you because of who you are and how you treat me. If it weren't for you, Fiyero, I don't think I'd survive this life."

He put his hand on hers and smiled at her. "You don't know what it means to hear that."

"But, Fiyero, these feelings, they're all well and good. We can feel them and that's fine, but I'm still just a bed slave. I always will be. One day, you'll have a princess."

"I don't like that any more than you do."

"But that's not now. I think we shouldn't worry about that right now. Life can change so fast." This was true. One moment she'd been the Eminent Thropp-to-be, about to enter Shiz, and the next she'd been his bed slave.

He nodded and brought her hand to his mouth, kissing it. "I love..."

"Don't say that yet, Fiyero. I'm not ready for that."

"I'm sorry."

"And stop saying that! All you've ever done is apologize to me, and none of it was ever your fault. I forgive you, Fiyero."

"And I will take care of you and do everything I can for you."

"I'm already the best-treated bed slave in all of Oz, Fiyero. Don't get me in trouble."

"I don't know how much trouble it would cause. So I show you affection. Who cares? As long as I still agree to marry who my father chooses, it doesn't matter if I care for you."

She didn't enjoy the thought of him getting married, but he wasn't to get married for at least another year. At least that gave them time. Sometimes she worried that she was clinging to him because he was all she had in the world, now. But she also realized that it didn't really matter _why_. This was her life. And she should appreciate the good parts. Fiyero was most definitely one of them.

"I'd kiss you right now," he said, "but I don't want to start anything. You're not able to handle that yet."

She shook her head. "I am most certainly not. Give me a week."

"Take whatever time you need. You're not just a bed slave to me, Fae."

"And you're not just my keeper."

He kissed her cheek. "When my father insisted I choose a bed slave, I certainly didn't expect any of this."

"And when my father told me I had to sing for the Scrow people, I didn't expect it either. Yet here we are. I can't say I'm happy that we met the way we did, because of the circumstances around that. But I am glad we met, I just wish it had been another way."

"I do, too."

"You feel so guilty, Fiyero, for all that's happened. And I don't want you to. I don't blame you. You shouldn't, either. It was never your fault."

"I still wish it hadn't happened."

"I know you do. You know I do. But I think I'm finally ready to move past that with you."

Things changed after that. She didn't spend every night in his room, of course. Elphaba would always need her space. But she spent more nights there, more nights where they didn't necessarily do anything, nights where he just held her. She allowed herself, for a time, to feel safe.

"I worry you will get pregnant again," he said to her late one night after they had stayed up half the night. "I can't let them put you through that again."

"I would not worry," she told him, "too much. The medicine woman gave me a tip for keeping track of things. I can't be sure it's accurate, but it makes scientific sense to me."

"That's comforting. I trust you. If you think it's a good enough method, I trust you. And maybe one day, when I'm king, it won't matter."

"It will still matter," she raised her eyebrows, "when you are king. Because I will not be your queen. Having your babies will be her job. Not mine."

"I wish you could be my queen."

She looked at him, alarmed. Yes, she cared for him, but she had no desire at the moment to even speak of such things! "No you don't. I would be of no use as a queen."

"It would be nice to be married to someone I cared about."

"Perhaps it would. But that is a luxury that a prince cannot afford. You must marry who your father decides. A bed slave is not a politically intelligent choice."

"I don't care about politics."

"Well, my prince, you should. You are a prince, are you not?"

"I am. I'm not sure I enjoy being a prince as much as I should."

"Well," she said, kissing him, "I think in some ways I enjoy being a bed slave much more than I should."


	16. Chapter 15: Respect

**AN: I am sorry for not writing in a little while. I've been busy with work, and we've had a family emergency/tragedy. My boyfriend's nephew had major brain surgery and now is fighting cancer that is severely aggressive. So things have been a little crazy.**

**Also, for the idea at the end of this chapter, thank you to TheGreenArtichoke.**

**Chapter 15: Respect**

Fiyero was in love with her. He knew this without question, though she would not let him speak the words. Every night she spent in his bed (whether there was more to it or not), he slept much more peacefully – and he noticed she did, too. Once or twice he had awakened and seen she was smiling as she slept. Such a contrast to the nightmares she'd be having after the horror his father had put her through.

He still wouldn't speak to his father, though his father probably hadn't even noticed. They saw each other so rarely that his silence passed without mention. There had been talk recently, however, of sending him to Shiz in a year or so. He would be going a year or two late, but (his father and uncles said) an education might help him rule his kingdom in these trying times. Some of him wanted to go, to learn, but he wouldn't leave Fae here, no when they had so little time before he would be forced to marry. He hadn't mentioned it to her. He wouldn't mention it until the time came closer and the discussion between his uncles and father became more serious. She had mentioned that she had been headed to Shiz a year or two early. He didn't want her to resent him for living the dream she hadn't gotten to.

"You have to be crazy," Watio told him. He told him this almost every time he talked about Fae.

"Why?"

"You're telling me you _love_ her. And she's okay with this? She's a fierce one, and I don't think she'd put up with your lovey-dovey sweetness."

"Well, I don't say the word 'love,' to her. She doesn't want me to. But I'm pretty sure she knows."

"This is an interesting development, to say the least, Fiyero."

"Interesting? It's the most complicated, confusing thing that's ever happened to me." That was certainly true.

"I cannot disagree with that." Watio sighed, putting a saddle on a hanger on the wall. "What do you intend to do about all of this?"

Fiyero shrugged. "What is there to do?"

"My point, exactly. You feel all these things and you won't even tell her. You can't do anything about them because she's a slave. What's the point of even thinking about it?"

"You cannot possibly understand," Fiyero replied. "Not if you don't feel this way."

"Because I can't. I'm a servant. I don't get to run around chasing girls. And if I could, it certainly wouldn't be a bed slave."

Fiyero looked at his friend. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I know, but I shouldn't come to you with my problems when..."

"When I'm just a stable boy and couldn't possibly understand?" Watio raised his eyebrows.

"That's not what I was saying."

"But it's true. You should be telling her this, not me."

"Watio..."

"I'm serious, Fiyero. I can't understand it at all, and it seems utterly ridiculous. But you might as well tell her, since you're so sure she knows."

"But she doesn't want to hear..."

"That's her problem."

Fiyero sat in his room over an hour later when Fae peeked in. "You told me to come in after dinner?"

He nodded as she climbed onto the bed beside him. "What have you been doing all day?"

"Reading that book you let me sneak into my room."

"I'm not surprised."

She traced her hands along his chest. "Now, my prince, what do you want with me?"

He bit his lip. She was so tempting. Fiyero kissed her. "The usual."

She slid her robe off of her shoulders. "I can do that."

"I love you, Fae." He moved in to kiss her.

She pulled back. "Why would you say that?"

"Because I do."

"I asked you not to say that."

"I know, but I do and I wanted to tell you anyways." He put his hand on hers.

Fae placed his hand back where it had been. "But I _asked you not to_," she repeated. "Fiyero, I don't understand why you can't respect my wishes here."

"I don't understand why you can't respect my feelings."

"I respect them, Fiyero. But I don't want to hear them." Fae got up. "Now, out of _respect_ and because I am a slave, I will ask you. Can I leave the room, please?"

"If that's what you want."

"Good night, Fiyero." She shut the door behind her.

Fiyero threw himself back on the bed and tried to sleep. When he woke up, she'd be gone.


	17. Chapter 16: Trespass

**Chapter 16: Trespass**

She slammed the door to her bedroom when she entered and paced the room. Elphaba was beyond angry. For the sake of her sanity, she had begged him numerous times not to say anything like what he had just said. If their relationship could stay just so, just the way it was, she could pretend to continue living blissfully ignorant. But he couldn't let it stay that way.

Elphaba hugged herself and looked around. She had one dress. For the most part, she wore various robes and nighties. Bed slaves weren't expected to dress nicely. She threw on her only dress and sat on the bed, staring out her small window, watching the sky turn darker than Fiyero's skin.

When she was satisfied that it was late enough, though she couldn't possibly know the time, Elphaba sneaked out of her room and slowly made her way down the stairs. The few times that Fiyero had taken her outside (mostly towards the stables), he'd taken her out of a door near the kitchens. She located the door and exited it. No one was guarding the door. Things were different now that the war was over. There was a guard who patrolled upstairs, but she'd learned to avoid him.

Once she was outside, she crept into the stables. Watio slept in a stall on the end of the row. Elphaba slipped into the closest stall and fed the horse some carrots she'd seen outside the stall. She did not grab a saddle. She merely climbed on the horse and guided it gently out of the stable as quietly as she could. She never thought she'd be grateful for the riding lessons her father had insisted she take in Munchkinland. She wasn't sure quite where to go, but she knew the general direction. After they walked a mile or so out from the castle, she brought the horse to a fast trot and rode towards Munchkinland.

It took a day and a half to get there. She had no food and no money, but she didn't feel hungry. Elphaba did feel the horse's hunger. It slowed as she neared Clowen Grounds, but she pressed on. She didn't know what she expected to find, but she knew she had to go. She couldn't continue to stay at Kiamo Ko with Fiyero anymore. Not if he loved her. Because she couldn't love him, a prince of the tribe that had killed her family.

When she arrived, she drew water from the well outside and gave it to the horse along with some old, green hay that they'd had nearby. She tied the horse up and entered the house, which was obviously in disrepair. Even the walls were collecting dust. Everything seemed so gray. The yellow walls that had once been the kitchen, the mint that had been the bedroom... just gray now. She couldn't breathe without coughing out the dust. It was amazing to think it had been only a year.

She rummaged through the cupboards until she found some stale but still edible cereal. Elphaba ate some and sighed. She was exhausted. She had not slept since she had fled Kiamo Ko. While she knew she needed to think about what to do next (something she hadn't exactly considered when she'd run), she'd much rather get some rest. With the remaining light of the day, she swept her old bedroom clear of dust and shook out her sheets and blankets.

The truth was, she had no idea where to go. There was no food left here and nothing she could do to make a living. She wasn't sure there was any family left, and if there was, they wouldn't know her from Lurline. Suddenly being fed and kept warm back at Kiamo Ko felt almost tempting. But she could never go back. Surely she'd be punished.

Not that it mattered. Things with Fiyero had gotten much too complicated. If he loved her, what was she to do? Elphaba could never love him back. Maybe she could care about him, feel for him, but loving him was out of the question. Forget that she was a slave and he was a prince. Forget that his people had killed her entire family. She had never intended to fall in love. It was not in the cards for her, and it would stay that way.

Elphaba crawled into Nessa's bed, the bed that she had often joined her sister in to ease her nightmares. She closed her eyes and tried to feel like this was home, though her heart kept telling her home was the place she had just left.

She didn't know what time it was when she was practically throttled awake, pulled away from a dream where her family still lived. Elphaba did not know who it was, but she knew no one else belonged in _her_ home in the dark, so she lashed out with her nails. She tore some cloth, but did not break any skin. Then a voice said, "Fae, stop."

She froze. "What in Oz are you doing here?" Elphaba pulled herself away and went to the window, noting that the sun was about to rise. She had been asleep since late the previous afternoon.

Fiyero did not follow her across the room, and for that she was grateful. She did not want him to touch her. "When we found out that you ran, I knew you'd gone home. I did a little research about the Eminent Thropps of Munchkinland and found that this was where they'd lived. So here I am."

"Why in Oz did you come after me, Fiyero?"

"You know why, whether or not you want to know."

"And what makes you think I will come back? Why would I? I get away and now you want me to go back to being a slave? Are you insane."

"It sounds ridiculous when you say it that way," he admitted. "But I promise you I'll treat you the best I can."

"You already do, Fiyero. That's never going to be enough."

"And what do you plan to do here?"

"I don't know! I thought maybe if I..." The truth? Part of her had hoped that when she arrived, she would be welcomed by... her family? Maybe it was all just a terrible lie, a mistake. Of course, that wasn't the case. She blinked away tears.

He went to her then and put a hand on her should. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, Fae. I want you to be happy."

"Then leave me alone!"

"I just worry that you don't know what you're doing. You could end up starving. Alone."

"I don't care. I just can't..." She was losing her words. Elphaba couldn't put words to what she felt, she didn't even know. "I can't, Fiyero. That's all I know."

He wrapped his arms around her. "Please. I love you. I'll take care of you."

"You really want me to be happy?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Then leave."

He sighed and let her go. "If that's what you want." Fiyero turned towards the door.

A voice cried out. "Halt! Who goes there and what are you doing trespassing _here_?"

Elphaba and Fiyero stared into the torch light of a very angry munchkin man, one Elphaba recognized.


	18. Chapter 17: Treachery

**Chapter 17: Treachery**

"Bokin, it's me," Fae said softly.

"Elphaba?" The munchkin man, Bokin, seemed confused. "But we heard that... and...?" He looked from Fae to Fiyero, lost.

"What you heard was mostly true. But they captured me."

"And you're coming home after all this time? With one of _them_?"

Fae paused. "It's difficult to explain."

"Oh, I don't think you need to. I've seen enough as it is. Come in, men! We've got traitors!" Bokin turned around and yelled over his shoulder.

"Traitors?" Fae looked hurt.

Several men ran into the room and grabbed both Fiyero and Fae. Fiyero knew better than to fight. He let himself be dragged down the road and into another house. He did not protest (though Fae did) as they bound his wrists with rope and threw him into an empty room with Fae. Bokin followed them in.

"What is going on?" Fae demanded.

"It's clear enough to me what happened. And I've heard rumors. I didn't think they could be true, but here you are. You betrayed your family to be a Vinkun harlot."

Fae did not speak.

"She did not give her family up!" Fiyero jumped in.

"And we're to believe you? You killed the Thropp family, aside from this wench, anyway." Bokin glared at him.

"He did not!" Fae shouted. "He never would've."

"What I don't understand is why in Oz you two would be stupid enough to come here."

"I wanted to go home," Fae said sadly. "I ran away. And this idiot followed me. I did not bring him here. And it doesn't matter, because he didn't do anything wrong, either! Bokin, please believe me. You've known me since I was a baby."

"Yes, and even as a baby, you bit your own father's fingers time after time. You smiled when people cried."

Fae turned her head. She and Fiyero were tied up and sitting against a wall. Her eyes met his and he saw that fire dwindling. "Sir, please, I'm an Arjiki prince, my father would pay good money to get me back, and he knows I wouldn't go back without her. Just let us go and you will be rewarded."

"Oh, so you're not just a harlot, but the prince's harlot?" Bokin sneered at Elphaba.

"Stop calling me that!" She snapped.

"Sir, I assure you, if you just send us back to the Vinkus you will never hear from us again."

"Oh, I don't intend to hear from either of you again, anyway." Bokin folded his arms across his chest. "The people of Munchkinland were dismayed when they heard what had happened to the Thropp family. The preacher who had blessed our children, performed many of our marriages? And his sweet, disabled daughter who loved the Unnamed God despite what he had made her? Someone needs to be punished for their deaths. This evening, I will announce your capture and you will be publicly executed."

"Executed?" Fiyero's jaw dropped. "For doing nothing? She was captured as a slave. She's been punished enough already. Execute me. Let her go."

"Fiyero!" Fae looked at him, wide-eyed.

"Just please," Fiyero continued, "let her go."

Bokin shook his head. "I don't think so. You two will be hanging come dinner." He left, locking the door behind him.

"Fiyero?" Fae murmured.

"What?"

"You... you just put my life before yours." Her voice was soft. "I didn't expect that."

"I love you, Fae. And I meant that. If I could just save you..."

"Shhh." Fae looked around. "If you hadn't caused such a scene when you came after me..." But she didn't sound angry, just wistful.

"They would've found you eventually, Fae, if you stayed much longer. You did have the horse tied up outside," he told her gently.

"I know."

Fiyero tried to maneuver his hand behind him along his belt, where he knew he had a Vinkun hunting knife. "I'm going to get us out of here."

She didn't see what he was trying to do. "You've said all you can, Fiyero. They're not going to listen. Munchkins are stubborn."

"No, I mean I have a knife." He scooted sideways.

"What?"

He finally grasped it with two fingers. He began sawing at his bindings. "Just give me a minute. But be ready to run. We won't have horses this time. They probably too them, and even if they didn't, going back for them would be stupid."

She nodded, swallowing hard.

He finally got his hands free. Carefully, he got up and began to work on hers. "I won't let them hurt you, Fae."

"I know," she replied. Once her hands were free she let him help her up. "What now?"

"The window. The moment we get outside, we'll have to be quick. We probably won't be safe until we reach the Vinkun border."

"Here goes nothing, then."

He helped her out the window and followed her. Fiyero kept her hand in his as they ran for the nearest forest.

She was out of breath quicker than he was and they had to stop and let her rest against some trees. "Sweet Oz!"

"Are you okay?"

"How do you run like that? You aren't even tired!"

"I've been training since I was a boy, Fae. And you've been doing very little physical activity... well, aside from sleeping with me."

She laughed. "Can we just walk? A fast walk?"

He nodded and grabbed her hand again. "There's an inn near the border. If we walk quickly it will still be light out when we get there."

She was silent for most of the walk, breathing heavily as they power walked. When they finally reached the inn right over the border, she was sweating.

He got them a room (the inn only had two). When they were alone, he said, "Do you want me to see if they have some oils? You look a little... flustered."

"That would be helpful."

He returned a moment later with some coconut oil. "Here."

She took it from him. "Now we should talk."

"I suppose we should."


	19. Chapter 18: So What Happens Now?

**Chapter 18: So What Happens Now?**

Elphaba sat down on the bed and Fiyero sat beside her. "What happens now?" She asked him.

He looked at his hands. "If you still want to run, then I will let you go, but there's something you should know before you try."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know how much you know about politics, but both you and I are now wanted for treason in Munchkinland. As far as that goes in my respect, a few words from my father to some important people in the City and it won't matter, though I wouldn't go back to your home town. But as far as you're concerned, no matter where you go, you could be turned in and sent back to Munchkinland."

"Even the Vinkus?"

"I'm not done. Such things can be, well, forgiven, if you are under the protection of a higher power. Like the eminences of Munchkinland. Or the governors of Gillkun. Or the chieftans of Quadling Country. Or the Wizard."

"Or the royal families in the Vinkus?"

"Yes. But if you run, I can't protect you. Most likely, you will be killed."

"And if I don't run?" Elphaba thought she knew the answer.

"Then I will protect you. As long as you are in the Vinkus with me, no one can touch you."

And just like that, she was trapped again. In some ways, it was almost a relief. She didn't want to make the decision to leave him. He had offered up his life for hers. Sure, that offer had not been taken, but it was a debt she could not repay. "I guess I have to return to the Vinkus with you, then, don't I?"

"I wish you could be happy with me, Fae. And I wish I could let you go, if that would make you happy. But I want you to be safe."

"I'll go back with you, Fiyero. Stop fussing." She didn't _know_ what would make her happy anymore. Elphaba didn't want him trying to figure it out for her. "I'm guessing they don't put slaves to death for running away in the Vinkus."

"For the most part, they are whipped. But it is actually up to – I hate this word – the slave's master. And you won't be punished. I don't blame you for running."

She uncorked the coconut oil and unzipped her dress, letting it drop to the floor. "I need to clean up, Fiyero."

"Can I help?" The eagerness was evident in his voice.

She suppressed a smile. "Not tonight, if that's all right with you."

"That's fine."

"What kind of bed slave am I? I get to choose when we have sex?"

"It's been that way for a while now, Fae."

"I know. It's just... not that I'm glad I'm a bed slave, or anything, but I'm glad it was you."

"And I am glad that, out of all the women in the world, it was you, Fae."

She finished cleaning herself and sat on the bed beside him. "I do appreciate your kindness. You are insane for trying to come for me, but I guess you did save us."

"I'm a hero!"  
"Yero my hero," she laughed, flushing.

He grinned. "I like it."

"You would." She wasn't sure that she wanted to give him a nickname, but after all, he called her by a nickname of sorts. "You do know you can call me Elphaba if you want, right?"

"Perhaps. Fae is nice, too."

After they woke up the next morning, they began walking back towards Kiamo Ko. Elphaba looked around. "This seems familiar."

"It is. It's where the Scrow were camped out when you were captured."

Elphaba shuddered. "Oh, I see." She looked at the ground.

He grabbed her hand but didn't say anything.

"It seems so strange to think about my life as it was then. It's almost as if you have become a normal part of my life."

"It's not so bad, though, is it?"

"It's not. But it's not..."

"It's not freedom. It's not how things were supposed to go."

"Yes, exactly. But it's not terrible, either. I think I've said this before. Being a bed slave, being _your_ bed slave, is fun sometimes."

He raised his eyebrows at her.

"I'm not going to explain that further."

He smiled. "You don't have to. I hope it's fun for more than just one reason."

"It is. When I realized I was being taken as a bed slave I certainly didn't expect to have the sort of conversations I have with you. And I did not expect the kindness."

"It won't change. I will never be cruel to you, Fae. I love you, and anything I can do to save you from getting hurt, I will. Always."

"One day, Fiyero, you are going to be married. You will have children and a kingdom to run. You will not be able to make me your first priority. And I am fine with that."

"But I'm not," he said quietly.

"And your feelings will change. You will grow up."

"But I'll still love you," he protested.

She laughed. "You're ridiculous. We are young. This whole conversation is insane."

"You can't tell me that you don't feel this, too!"

"I've told you I care about you." Elphaba didn't like the direction the conversation was going.

"But what about love, Elphaba?"

She stopped walking and stared at him. "I can't, Fiyero. I just can't do this right now." Elphaba looked around at the landscape, looking back at the place where her entire life had changed. She wiped tears from her eyes.

"Oh, Fae, I'm sorry..." He brushed her hair from her face, sticky with sweat from the walk. "I didn't want to upset you. You're right. Now is not the time for this conversation. I apologize."

They didn't talk the rest of the way home.


	20. Chapter 19: Dangers

**AN: I have finished this story. I won't post it all tonight, but it is shorter than my usual stories. I left room for a sequel, which I will write.**

**Chapter 19: Dangers**

The moment they reached the castle, he changed into his bed clothes and Elphaba changed into a robe and they fell into bed, exhausted. He pulled Fae into his arms and buried his face in her hair. That's how he was when his father burst in some time later. "Son!"

They both sat up quickly. Fiyero grabbed Fae protectively. "What do you want, Father?"

His father looked at Fae and raised his eyebrows. Then he turned to Fiyero. "We need to talk."

Fiyero did not feel like dealing with his father. He was tired, emotionally and physically. "Can we talk later?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"Then talk."

"I want to talk to you alone, Son."

"What does it matter? You've said it yourself: she's just a bed slave." He was, of course, twisting his father's words.

"It's become very clear to me that she is more than just a bed slave to you. So we are going to talk _alone_."

Fiyero groaned and looked to Fae. "I'll be back in a little while."

She nodded, clearly still half asleep. "Whatever."

Fiyero followed his father into his office. His father slammed the door and turned to him. "I've been dealing with your little escapade all day, writing apology letters. Following her in the first place was stupid, but to _Munchkinland_? You nearly got yourself killed!"

"She would've died if I hadn't gone after her!"

"That is not your problem! She is a bed slave. She escaped. If she got over the border, there was little we could do."

"I love her," he blurted. "I wasn't going to let her go without at least trying to talk her into coming back."

His father stared at him. "You love her?"

"I do."

"I think you're confusing love with lust, son. You're young..."

Fiyero cut his father off. "Oh, no. I know what lust is. I feel that, too. But there's more to it than that. That's why I went after her."

His father shook his head. "This is insane." He turned opened the door and said to a guard, "Please have Fiyero's bed slave come in here."

Fae entered the room a moment later, looking sleepy and confused. "Your highness?"

"Please, sit down," Fiyero's father gestured to a chair.

Fae sat down. "I'm sorry for trying to escape."

"That's Fiyero's problem."

Fiyero sat down next to her. "What do you want, Father?"

His father looked at Fae. "My son loves you."

"It would seem he does," Elphaba replied levelly.

"And you?"

Fae bit her lip. "I'm just a bed slave, sir. It really doesn't make much a difference how I feel."

"But I would like to know," his father insisted.

Fae looked towards him, almost sadly. "Your son is a wonderful, kind person, but no, I do not love him."

Fiyero looked down at his hands, praying that she was lying to his father. She had never said that she loved him, but he still hoped that she did, somehow.

"Do you care for him at all?" His father was not fazed by Fae's answers.

"I do."

This cheered him slightly. But he already knew that.

"But not enough to love him?"

"Let me be honest, sir. I don't think I could love anyone in this situation. It's a little complicated."

His father raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

"I'm sorry, Fae." Fiyero took her hand.

She pulled her hand away. "Stop that."

"You may leave," his father told her.

Fae nodded and left the room quickly.

"What was that?" Fiyero demanded.

"I wanted to know how much of a danger she was. If she shared your feelings, I can only imagine you'd fight even harder to resist when you get married or go to Shiz. I wanted to know what I had to do with her."

"What do you mean?"

"If I believed she was a danger, I'd have given her to one of your uncles."

"Don't you dare!" Fiyero jumped out of his chair. "After everything she's been through, doing something like that would be so wrong."

"She is just a slave. And besides, I'm not going to. She'll stay yours. For the time being. But if you make any more trouble on her account, that could change."

He understood the threat, horrified as he was by it. "I see."

"Good. Now go get some rest. You look exhausted."

Fae was sitting up in the bed when Fiyero got back in the room. "You told him you love me."

"It just came out."

She sighed. "Are we in trouble?"

"No." He didn't want to go into his the threats his father had made. It would only upset and scare her. "He was more angry about me going to Munchkinland and everything."

She nodded. "You're going to get us in serious trouble one of these days."

"I know, I know."

"Why did he call me in there?"

"Honestly? To see if you were a problem. If you loved me back, he'd consider you one. But since you said you didn't..." He looked away.

She got up from the bed. "Fiyero, please. It's like I said, this isn't the situation for love. But I do care about you."

He pretended not to be hurt by that. "I understand. I just wish you..."

"Fiyero, don't." Fae kissed him. "Can we just go to sleep? When we wake up, I promise to make you forget all about what just happened," she teased, running her fingers along his chest.

"Can I get a preview now?"

She just grinned and laid back on the bed.


	21. Chapter 20: A New King

**Chapter 20: A Better King**

Elphaba detached herself from Fiyero's arms, put on a robe and got up to look out the window. It had been weeks since she had run away, and things had gone back to "normal" faster than she had thought they would. What she saw when she looked out the window, however, made it clear that things wouldn't stay that way for long.

She rushed back to the bed and woke Fiyero. "Yero! Get up. There are twenty servants leaving on horseback looking concerned. What is going on?"

Fiyero sat up. "I have no idea." He began pulling on his clothes when there was a knock at the door. "Open it, Fae."

She opened the door to Fiyero's father's main adviser.

"Prince Fiyero, we have a situation."

"What is going on?" Fiyero demanded.

"Sit down."

Elphaba sat on the bed and Fiyero did the same. She took his hand.

"Your father never came back from his nightly ride last night."

"So the servants riding outside are going to find him?" Fiyero squeezed her hand.

The adviser nodded.

"I want to go."

"No."

"Why can't I?" Fiyero demanded.

She held his hand tightly.

"Because we don't know what happened to your father. If he was attacked, you could be in danger merely going to look for him. I advise that you stay here." The adviser left the room.

"Oh, sweet Oz." Fiyero got up and went to the window. "What could've happened? I hope he wasn't attacked. That would probably mean another war..."

She went to him and put a hand on his arm. "Maybe he got lost, or maybe his horse got hurt and he couldn't get back easily. They'll find him, Fiyero."

"They will. But what if he's...?"

"Shhh." She put a finger to his lips.

"Thank you."

"What?"

"For being here."

"I'm not going to leave you. No matter what." Elphaba told herself she was just saying that to comfort him, not that she meant it. "They will come get us when they find him. Come sit down with me." She sat down on the bed.

He nodded, dazed, and joined her on the bed.

"Fiyero, listen to me. Whatever happens, we'll get through this, okay?" She felt silly, comforting him when no one had been their to comfort her when she'd watched her own father die.

He smiled lightly at her. "I love you."

She touched his cheek. "You're a good man, Fiyero." There was a part of her that wanted to tell him she loved him, too, but she thought maybe she'd be lying, so she said nothing.

He kissed her.

She kissed him back, thinking perhaps she could distract him for some time (and have some fun), but the door burst open and she pulled away.

Fiyero jumped up as his father's adviser entered. "What happened?"

"We found him."

"Where was he? Is he okay?"

The adviser reached out and put a hand on Fiyero's shoulder. "He had a heart attack and fell from his horse. The horse panicked and trampled him. I'm sorry, Prince Fiyero."

Elphaba brought a hand to her mouth. She held no affection for the king, but she knew Fiyero did. And she knew things would change – a lot. "Oh, no."

Fiyero sat back down on the bed, shaking. "What... what... what do I do?"

"Nothing right now. They're bringing him back. His funeral will be tomorrow. Your coronation will be the day after that. I will let you know when they return so you can say goodbye. Tomorrow we will discuss what is to happen. Do you wish me to stay? Or should I send your uncles up to grieve with you?"

"I'd rather grieve alone," Fiyero murmured quietly.

The adviser nodded and left.

"Do you want me to go?" Elphaba asked. She began to leave the room.

He grabbed her wrist. "No." Fiyero pulled her into his arms. "Please stay with me."

She nodded up at him and rested her head against his chest. "I'm so sorry, Fiyero."

He buried his face in her hair, and she pretended she didn't notice the tears. "I don't even know why I'm upset about it. All he ever did was lecture me. It's not as though we were close."

This she understood. "My father wasn't kind to me, either. But I loved him. It's only natural, Fiyero."

After a few more minutes, he said, "I guess I'm going to be king now, I guess."

"You are."

"I'm not ready."

"You will be a great king." And she believed this. Fiyero was kind. Perhaps he would need some help being diplomatic, because sometimes he was too soft. But he would be fair. And so few kings were. "I know you will, Fiyero."

"My father didn't become king until he was in his late twenties and I was already born."

"You are not your father. Not that your father wasn't a good king, but you don't need to be like him. Do what you think is right, Fiyero, and you will be the best king."

He kissed her cheek. "You know that as my bed slave you're going to get a better bedroom, right?"

"I didn't know. And I don't exactly care. I spend more than half my nights in your room. Although I suppose that's going to change soon."

"Why?"

"Fiyero," she said gently, "I'm guessing that when you become king, they're going to expect you to marry."

Fiyero did not look happy about that.


	22. Chapter 21: Unsolicited Advice

**Chapter 21: Unsolicited Advice**

The next day after the funeral, Fiyero was called into what used to be his father's office by his father's adviser and his eldest uncle. Fae, again, waited in his room. She wasn't allowed at the funeral, nor at whatever meeting he was about to have. But he knew she was content reading a book in his bed. She didn't mind being left out.

"As I told you, your coronation is tomorrow," his father's adviser – was he now _his_ adviser? - began carefully.

Fiyero nodded.

"Now, you are old enough to be king and run this kingdom on your own."

"What about Shiz?"

"That was one of the many things we were going to discuss. Let's begin with that, then. Your uncle can stand in your place while you attend Shiz. Should anything incredibly important happen, you will be sent for."

"I see."

"Now for your marriage..."

"I have to?"

"As soon as possible."

Fiyero's heart sank. "If it's absolutely necessary."

"There is a slight problem with that. Your father never had the chance to choose you a wife. Since you are to be king, we can line up all the available girls in the village and you may make your own decision."

"I've already made one."

"What?" Both men looked at him, his uncle speaking for the first time.

"I want to marry Fae."

"Your bed slave?" His uncle stared at him.

"Yes, my bed slave."

"She's not even Vinkun."

"Is that a requirement?"

"Well, it's not..."

"And I want her to attend Shiz with me."

"We _can_ afford that," his adviser began, "but your highness, I urge you to give this more thought. You cannot possibly understand what you'd be asking of her. A queen has duties, too. She must comply with certain behaviors, talk to the people, be charitable..."

"Then I'll tell her and she'll do it." At least he hoped she would. It didn't sound too bad.

His adviser paused. "I'd like her to join us in here. I would like to speak with her about this myself..."

Twenty minutes later, Fae sat in a chair beside Fiyero, quietly absorbing what was being told to her. "I see."

"I will admit, I have advised him against this, but he insisted. Since he is about to be king, we cannot stop him, as long as you agree. Do you?"

"I..." She looked at Fiyero. "Can I have a moment to speak with Prince Fiyero, please?"

His adviser and uncle nodded and left the room.

"So, Fiyero, this is how proposals work in the Vinkus?"

"I... what?" He stared at her.

"I come in here, your _uncle_ tells me that you want to marry me? I would've appreciated some heads up!"

"I didn't even know I could marry you until this afternoon! I'm sorry!"

She laughed, surprising him. "So this is really an option?"

"As far as I'm concerned, it's the only option," he said, taking her hand. "I want to marry you, Elphaba."

She looked at the ground. "How will it be any different than how it is now?"

"You'll have your own rights. You will be able to leave the Vinkus with me. You will be treated differently by everyone else, and I will give you everything. If you don't, then you'll continue to be my bed slave, I suppose, but I will have to marry someone else."

"And you don't want to marry anyone else."

"No. Because I love you. You know that."

"Fiyero, this is insane."

"You're going to Shiz with me," he added.

She looked at him, eyes sparkling. "Are you trying to bribe me?"

"No. But I know you. And I know admitting that you love me or want to be with me is going to be impossible. You can't even admit to yourself, much less to me. So I'm giving you another reason." He kissed her hand. "Marry me, Elphaba."

She bit her lip but nodded slowly. "I will."


	23. Epilogue: The Best Advice

**Epilogue: The Best Advice**

Elphaba sat on a couch, alone in the room before her wedding, waiting to walk down the aisle. She looked up. "Oh, Nessie, I can't believe I'm sitting here. I'm getting married. Oh, I know you'd never expect this. I still don't know if I can do this..."

She looked over at the bible on the bed side table. "Why not?" She opened it. "Marriage is the most important bond before the Unnamed God." Elphaba took a deep breath as someone knocked on the door, telling her it was time to walk down the aisle. "Thank you, Nessie."

She left the room and stood at the end of the aisle. "Thank you," she whispered, looking down the aisle at Fiyero. "Thank you."

**AN: So, as you can see, there's still so much that hasn't happened. She still doesn't love him (or at least she won't admit it). And what kind of social dysfunction is she going to have at Shiz, after being a bed slave for over a year? And Boq, well, he isn't exactly going to want to be her friends. She's basically hated in Munchkinland, now, as is Fiyero. There is so much I can do here. So, there will be a sequel. I am already working on it. It's called "From Slavery to Shiz." Keep an eye out for it. I should be posting a chapter somewhere in the next week. Thank you for reading!**


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